


Alcyone

by exactly13percent



Series: The AU Court [16]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - No Exy (All For The Game), Alternate Universe - Space, Background Relationships, Ch. 13: TW Torture, Ch. 6: TW Abduction, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Relationships, M/M, Multi, Tetsuji Moriyama is The Sole Enemy, minor character development
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-03-16
Packaged: 2019-10-06 10:06:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 52,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17343335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exactly13percent/pseuds/exactly13percent
Summary: "We are an impossibility in an impossible universe." - Ray Bradbury Charles-The Stars fall from the sky. They come to earth in bodies they barely understand, and they wander or run until they are found.Until someone like Andrew finds them.Neil is a Star, and he has no memory of how he fell or why. All he knows is that no one can be trusted, and no one can know what he is. Hiding is the only way to survive—but Andrew ruins that plan. He sees, and even if he doesn't know yet, he will figure it out.And Neil can't help wanting him to.





	1. Descent

The gates were tall. Wrought in iron, the black-gray color was just as cold and flat as everything else outside the Capitol. The noise they made as they shut was one of prolonged agony; something between a screech and a moan.

You might have thought that the richness of the Capitol could afford to oil the hinges. Andrew knew it was all about intimidation.

It always was.

There was nothing left for him, at or beyond the gates. Andrew turned on his heel, dark fabric fluttering lowly against his body. His boots made only the softest tap against the stones underfoot.

Here, in the Inner City, everything was clean. The streets were free of refuse and rats. The stalls that began to appear at the edges of the market were militarily aligned, clean and covered with sharp awnings for passing customers. Here, everything had a scheme—the colors of the buildings, the numbered streets, the wares that the vendors sold.

If he were to stay, Andrew considered he might just go insane. The only things here worth his time were the stalls with expensive fabrics and custom blades. Even those couldn’t hold his attention for long. Besides, he could always order by missive, without having to attend any of the stalls.

The most satisfying method of going out, Andrew believed, was not going out at all.

“Andrew.”

He turned toward the voice, though his feet nearly stuck to the ground, his body urging him away from the Inner City. Perhaps he shouldn’t have come by this street; he knew Renee’s place was here. He knew to avoid the area, if he didn’t want her to stop him.

Andrew wrote it off as distraction. He’d only just finished a job, after all.

Renee smiled. She was cleaning her hands of something—perhaps blood. The pure white of her hair sparkled at the end with shifting color, a rainbow rippling along the strands. Her eyes were almost the same as they surveyed Andrew, but their glow was softer. “Hey,” she said softly. “Coming or going?”

“Going.” Andrew stopped short of the doorway. Glanced toward the window, where the shades were drawn. Definitely blood, then. She probably had a client. “Allison home?”

“No. I needed herbals,” Renee murmured, looking down the street, into the distance. There was a faint line of worry between her brows. Andrew might have thought it was for Allison, but then Renee spoke again. “There have been more, recently.”

“Hunters? Or.”

Renee bit her lip. Crossed her arms over her chest, one hand worrying with the cloth she’d been using to clean her hands. “Some. Also…”

“What?” Andrew didn’t believe in tiptoeing. He didn’t think Renee did, either, but she did believe in silence. He knew better. “Not Stars.”

It couldn’t be Stars. They didn’t have the same bodies that humans did, even if they looked like them.

Renee lifted an eyebrow—not reproachful but reminding. She was one, after all. A Star.

You could tell. You could always tell with them. They had a glow to their eyes, and it was hard for them to hide. It shimmered from beneath their skin, too—at the shoulders, the collarbone, anywhere their skin was thin and the Star beneath was close to the surface.

“You know, we can be hurt.”

“Your feelings don’t count,” Andrew replied. A trickle of something cold bled into the words and he shifted his stance, letting the feeling slide from him. “I don’t know what to tell you.” He shrugged. “It’s nothing. Just more cases than usual.”

“More,” Renee murmured. “Falling.”

Stars had funny ideas of time. Of what was important, and what hurt meant.

Falling meant something to them. Or at least, to Renee. Andrew wasn’t sure she was the rule. He suspected she was the exception.

“Oh. What an unpleasant surprise.” Allison swept around Andrew, her gold-blonde hair pulled up and away from the high collar of her cloak. She cast him a cursory glance before approaching Renee.

“Good. This will help.” Renee smiled, her hand sliding beneath Allison’s. It was oddly intimate, and something twisted in Andrew’s gut. It was probably weeks of travel to turn in the Star he’d just found. He looked away, down the road that Allison had come from.

The Outer City lay beyond. Then the Drain, a thin land of street urchins and thieves. Opportunists.

Beyond, the Fields. The place no one went.

No one except Hunters.

“Another?” Renee asked, calling Andrew’s attention again. He met her eyes—then followed them up, to the sky, where there was pale white streak.

The path was strong. Especially strong, because Andrew could see it even in broad daylight. The edges were diffused, small sparks dusting the edge of the path. It was interesting—not an arc, or even a vertical line. It was somewhat diagonal and jagged, unruly in its presentation.

No one knew what difference the paths made, but they were recorded. Andrew didn’t care about them. He only cared about where they ended. Where he could find the Star.

He had a job to do. “Yes,” he told Renee. “Another.”

Andrew flipped his cloak over one shoulder and turned away. He continued down the path that he had started, but he could hear Renee’s voice behind him as he walked away.

“Be safe,” she told him, still as soft as ever. “Watch the skies.”

 _Always,_ he thought. _It’s all I do._

☆

The assignment was already posted when he reached the Foxhole.

Wymack wasn’t around, but he’d been busy, lately. Doing something. Andrew didn’t particularly care; he only cared that he was paid on time. That the director of the outpost filed paperwork correctly and gave Andrew the jobs that no one else would take.

That no one else could or should.

“You’re back,” Matt said, emerging from the back door just as Andrew walked through the front.

“Clearly.”

Matt wasn’t bothered by the response. Not much bothered him, which was a constant point of interest to Andrew. One of Andrew’s hobbies was figuring out how much he could push before Matt snapped at him. It was experimentation. A way to test the parameters and gauge weaknesses. It was survival.

“Drink?” Matt hopped over the bar counter, powerful arms levering his body. “You were out a while. What was it, a month?”

“Three weeks,” Andrew corrected. He slapped his bag onto the bar, ignoring Matt’s pained expression. He probably wants to say something about Wymack’s rules. “I only stopped by. I have another one.”

“Yeah, I saw.” Matt huffed, flipping a heavy glass in hand. He pours not masterfully—not like Roland, at Eden’s—but effectively. Matt has a few drinks under his belt. The Foxhole’s members enjoy their drinks.

Matt passed the glass across the bar. He leaned back against the counter behind him, arms crossed over his chest. His gaze was fixed somewhere in the distance, past Andrew’s shoulder. _What is it about them and looking places that don’t exist?_ He wondered if they thought they were looking into the future. If they believed one existed.

They were wrong.

Andrew drained his glass quickly. Turned to his pack while Matt scoffed, pulling the glass back to rinse it at the sink behind him.

“I need two weeks,” Andrew said.

Matt frowned. “You should take at least four—”

“Two weeks.”

Matt sighed. Turned toward the pantry, rustling around the rations while Andrew methodically unpacked his bag. There were simple essentials—rope, matches, thick gloves. Tools. A folded green bag, waterproof, for holding rations.

Andrew had it down to an art, now. Packing and unpacking, one-fifth of his life on his back while he navigated the Fields.

“Here.” Matt slid over three weeks, not two, and shoved a set back toward Andrew when Andrew pushed it away. “Season’s changing, Andrew. Even you know there may be setbacks.”

“I don’t get set back.” Andrew shoved the rations into his pack and threw it over his shoulder, sliding off the bar stool.

Matt rubbed a hand over his face, sighing again. Andrew was already halfway to the door.

“Be safe,” Matt called, raising his voice. “And—”

“Watch the skies.”

* * *

One minute, he was there— _there,_ he can’t think of a word for it—and the next, he was falling.

He fell.

Everything was heat. It started as a small spike; an insistent prick, the burn reaching insidiously through his entire being. He was—he _was_ —and then he was falling.

He fell.

It was confusing. He didn’t know this; the feeling of this pain, of tumbling, nowhere and no direction and nothing but the heat. There was no way to find up. Get a grip. There was only endless black and space, and then fire and pain. He was falling.

He fell.

Colors blurred together, endless smears of paint that assaulted him even when he— _was it eyes closed?_ —and the color just went on and on and on—

—and he was—

—falling, and he—

—fell.

☆

“ _Fffu_ ck.” Neil gasped, his voice a dry heave, chest expanding and ribs painfully creaking. He was curled, half-sprawled on his side, the earth beneath him buzzing at every point of contact. He choked on nothing; on— _air._

 _Air,_ he realized, and he wa☆s suddenly dizzier than before. He blinked and found he had eyelids; moved his arms and found he had two. Neil groaned, a low, thin noise that slipped from his lips. There was a heavy taste on his tongue, metal and mineral and ozone.

This was wrong. All wrong.

Neil shakily pushed himself upright. Found that his entire body shook, tremors running through every inch of his being.

His being. “Fuck,” Neil whispered again, cracked and dry. He had a body, looked human. “Fuck.”

It was heavy. Odd. Part of him wanted to claw out—to feel himself _reach_ again, feel the nothingness of space and the matter of light.

His skin held him. He could feel it; feel his body and _himself_ beneath, light and being shifting like polished stone.

Words. He knew words—knew _words_ , concepts, things he only knew secondhand, before. He knew the word for ears and he knew he had a tongue.

He was in a field. Neil lifted a hand, slow, expecting something. Anything. An explosion, or a fight, or the end of the world.

Instead, his fingertips found grass. He watched his hand— _his_ hand—and felt the whisper of vegetation against his skin. His skin.

This was all wrong.

Looking down, Neil could see the galaxy clinging to his body. The shifting wisp of his trail, wrapped around this strange body in gossamer. It covered him, neck to foot, an endless sleeve of clothing that was ivory-cream and seemed to glimmer deeply. He knew, distantly, that it made him stick out.

He was also aware that wandering naked was not a good idea.

“This can’t be real.” It was a whisper that left him—a weakness, he decided, and he shoved it away as soon as it left his tongue.

Neil took a step and hissed, pulling his foot back. There was something sharp on the ground. He crouched slowly, strange hand reaching for it. He nearly forgot to pick up the object, too disturbed by the golden skin of his strange body and the opalescent glimmer that rose from beneath the skin of his knuckles.

It was a shard.

A spike of fear rushed through him. He clenched the small piece in his hand—it was blue-black, dark speckles of violets and silver marking it. Something about it didn’t seem right, but—

—but, what did he know? It was a piece of him. A memory. If he couldn’t remember, he couldn’t say it was wrong.

The color was strange. Neil wasn’t sure what to think of it, but he knew better than to leave it. He laid it against the end of his right sleeve and then rolled it back, tight, securing the shard within the fabric.

_Where am I?_

It didn’t matter. He was on Earth, and that was the only thing he needed to know.

That, and—

— “I fell,” he said weakly, his eyes drawn up toward the sky. He couldn’t _see._ Couldn’t see anything.

A cold shiver ran up his spine. He was on Earth, alone.

And he was in danger.


	2. Path

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Andrew and Nicky track their fallen stars, Neil attempts to get as far away from the place he fell as he can. Neil runs into someone, and realizes he might have to make a hard decision.

Andrew only made it a block from the Foxhole before he heard quick footsteps behind him, heels tapping against stone. He didn’t even turn around. He knew who it was.

“Headed my way?” Nicky grinned, dramatically flipping his cloak over his shoulders as he caught up and slowed his pace. The fabric fluttered dramatically, just as theatric as Andrew’s cousin.

Family was strange. Even stranger among Hunters. A Hunter only had one duty—to find and retrieve. Like some absurd game of fetch. Andrew didn’t care for it.

He didn’t care not to do it, either. So, he was here, doing a job that meant nothing to him, if only because it afforded him the opportunity to keep an eye on his cousin.

His brother, too.

“I have a job, though I think we split paths down the line,” Nicky explained. It was more for his benefit than Andrew’s. “You just returned, too. Can’t believe you don’t get a break.”

Anyone else might have assumed Nicky’s puzzled musing was simple. Surface-level confusion. Andrew heard the tension in his voice; the strain, the dismay. The hidden words. _I don’t want you to do this much. I don’t want you worked to death._

He didn’t understand. This was all Andrew had to do. It might not have meant anything to him, but it kept Nicky and Aaron safe, and so he did it.

That was all.

Andrew shifted his pack onto his shoulders and began to walk faster. “Keep up,” he said. “I won’t wait for you.”

☆

“Oh, god,” Nicky moaned, his face in his hands. “Andrew. Andrew, p—”

“Don’t say it.”

Nicky sighed. Ran his hands through his long brown hair, the waves interspersed with tiny braids woven with shimmering threads and colored beads. They shared some of this in common, though Andrew’s was only longer on one side, and the only braid he wore was plain. “Come on,” Nicky pressed. “Don’t—”

“Don’t what? Make this quick?”

Nicky made a displeased noise. “Quick isn’t always better, Andrew.”

“It is when your priority is returning.”

Nicky grumbled, but he followed Andrew off the path. They were leaving the road that led through the cities and finding a way past the wild lands.

Well. Not exactly finding; Andrew knew his way with his eyes closed.

It wasn’t often that Andrew traveled with another Hunter. His method was typically to do his job and do it quickly. The faster he finished, the simpler it was to return to the Foxhole and either take the hardest job or ensure that Nicky and Aaron didn’t.

They didn’t spend much time together, but in lapses of jobs, they would make their way to Eden’s. It had been some time since they’d gone. Maybe a month.

Andrew really needed a drink.

☆

It was a simple choice to become a Hunter.

There weren’t many options open to Andrew. There were even fewer when Aaron decided to follow Nicky to the Inner City and a recruitment center.

Andrew partly blames Wymack. The veteran Hunter is good at picking up lost causes and vulnerable sob stories. To Andrew, he’s just another fool in a city full of them. But he promised to do what he could for Nicky and Aaron, so Andrew dragged himself to the Foxhole and joined the ranks of the Hunters there.

Andrew never questions his decision. Regret is for those too weak to follow a path they chose themselves. It is the medicine of the fearful, meant to comfort them before they abandon a commitment. Andrew doesn’t have time for regret.

Not when he’s so close.

* * *

Neil found it simple to curl on the ground, a few yards away from where he’d landed, under the arms of a giant tree. His first night, he had no interest in venturing toward the glittering lights of civilization before him. No matter how dangerous it was to be caught—especially at the sight of his fall—he had nowhere to go and no plans.

Nothing, other than the need to survive.

When morning came, Neil made his way out of the field he’d landed in. He paused halfway toward the sprawling place before him, where he was sure humans walked and went about their lives.

_How to hide?_

He knew some things. Knew how to contain the glow of Star beneath the skin of his human body. He pulled it in, like trying to keep sand from water; a little slipped out every time he thought he had it. As much as he tried, the difficulty of it frustrated him, and he fell to his knees in frustration and desperation.

Neil’s arms wrapped against his body. He grimaced, fragmented noises clinking behind his teeth like keys. _Hold it. Hide it._

Something flitted overhead.

There was no warning. Only a sudden wash of static in his ears, and then a ripping fear that sliced through him like a blade. Neil could not feel breath in his lungs—two things he had never needed before—and his body was rigid. Wide eyes traced the flutter of a bird in the sky and then—

—then, just as suddenly as it had come, it was over.

Neil gasped, his palms slamming against the ground. He dug his fingers in just to feel the earth—just to remember where he was. How he was.

The glow was gone. He realized this as he looked down at his hands, the skin there devoid of any mystic glow. It was still golden—still healthy, lovely—but that was all.

_And what was that?_

He couldn’t think. Didn’t know what to imagine had gripped him. He knew the fear—knew the blinding terror that had shattered everything.

He did not remember what caused it. Maybe it was better not to.

Better not to, he wondered, as he hesitantly pulled his sleeve up to see a patchwork of scars on his arms. Someone had hurt him, and they had done so before he fell.

Neil knew well what it took to hurt a star, and the scars he found terrified him more than anything else.

 _I have to go,_ he told himself as he stumbled to his feet. _I have to go._ He knew his attire was strange, even if his glow was contained, and he knew further that there would be people looking for him.

Neil stole into the edges of the city he found, walking out of the fields and into the dull roar of human civilization. Paper and trash rustled along the street, alongside his feet, and there was so much around him. The sounds of people talking and fighting and selling things. The smells of food, meat and savory and the distant warmth of honey. It was all, it was everywhere, and—

—he was comforted by it. Neil was comforted by the faceless shift of the crowd, like a giant organism operating with all its miniature parts. He could be forgotten, here. He could go unnoticed.

Neil’s hand curled around something heavy as he passed between crowded stalls. He slipped the cloak over his shoulders as he navigated the crowd.

He was unsure of all but one thing; he needed to leave. Needed to get as far away from this place as possible, because someone would come looking for him. He needed to go.

The path before him was unfamiliar. The voices and people were. None of it mattered to Neil. He was here, he _was_ , and he had no idea how to return to the skies he’d fallen from. Had no idea how to feel _everything_ again, stretching beyond the limits of a body or any other construct.

He had no home, here or above. But for the first time, Neil wished he had somewhere to turn to.

* * *

“So? What’s the bet this time?” Nicky cheerily walked through the field with its tall grasses that parted around him, their tips barely hitting above his waist. They were much higher to Andrew.

“I don’t know why you ask. I could just lie.”

Nicky snorted. “You wouldn’t. You don’t.”

Andrew decided to ignore that particularly astute observation and flipped his dagger in his hand, instead. The empty sheath at his thigh tapped lightly with each step he took. He ran his fingers along it, sometimes, to feel the raised patterns on the leather. It was a gift—a stupid one, but a useful one.

“The fields, still,” Andrew finally said. “It won’t go to town. The path was wrong.”

“Paths mean nothing.” Nicky sighed and shook his head, as if it were tragic that Andrew didn’t know.

“Maybe to you.”

“Oh, come on. They’re inconsistent.”

 _You haven’t been around long enough to see,_ Andrew didn’t say. He pointed instead to a spot in the distance. The closer they came, the more obvious the sounds of a creek became. Nicky was unmoved by the discovery, but Andrew knelt by the edge of the water.

“What are you doing?”

Andrew shot his cousin a look. “This flows from the direction of the impact. If there’s debris…”

“Then you know the chances of Fishermen taking it,” Nicky mumbled. He frowned a little, as if disappointed in his confusion.

There wasn’t anything in the creek. Nothing but Andrew’s reflection—pale face, pale blond hair that hung long over the right side of his face. The hazel of his eyes invaded by bright tendrils of light that emanated from a ring around his pupils. There were black spots beneath his skin, like flecks of ash or ink, dripping from his eyes and creeping over his cheeks.

He didn’t look like Nicky. He didn’t even look like Aaron. Andrew looked different, and it almost bothered him.

“So? What’s the verdict, oh great and powerful master Hunter?” Nicky grinned.

“You’re still a moron.”

“Oh, thank _God_.”

* * *

He didn’t know what the hell he was doing.

Still, Neil didn’t expect anyone would. Any Star. He was in unfamiliar territory, and there was no way to know who would kill him or capture him, and who would help.

The market life was dying down. Neil threaded his way through larger gaps as the sun began to set, and he found the murmur of voices lower than it had been before. He needed a place to stay, and soon—or he would be right back to the field, and the Hunters would find him without a struggle.

Neil was walking toward a nearby alley to contemplate his choices when he bumped into someone. Their eyes only met for a moment, but—

—but, he recognized something in their deep hue. A faint glow.

He didn’t think. Neil curled a hand around the stranger’s and pulled.

It wasn’t until he was in the alley that he really looked. The person was much taller, and there was an arch expression on their face. They looked ready to call for help, or simply toss Neil aside.

“You’re like me,” Neil said, because he didn’t believe in being gentle and he _knew_ he was right. “Aren’t you?”

The stranger pulled back an inch. Their feet slid against the ground, and Neil saw the same wrapped gossamer that covered his body. “You are.”

“What do you want?” The stranger pulled their cloak tighter around their shoulders. It barely hid the pale bluish hue to the path that clung to his body.

Neil glanced toward the mouth of the alley. Ensured no one was too curious about their rendezvous. “I want to escape. Survive.”

“You can’t—”

“I will.” Neil curled his hands at his side, uncurled them with focused thought. “I’m asking you to come.”

“How do I know you’re telling the truth? Why would I want—”

“I’ll show you.”

It was a gamble. A dangerous one, because the stranger could be anyone. Could be an imposter, or the very person that kicked Neil out of the sky. He still didn’t know what happened.

For all he knew, this stranger was the reason Neil had fallen.

Still, the need for an ally outweighed everything else. Neil kept that in mind as he exhaled, a slow movement that flooded his system with a trickle of _other_ as he rose to the surface of his skin. His eyes were glowing, he knew, and the opalescent blue was probably throwing color over his face.

The stranger’s reaction was unexpected. His eyes widened, and his hands shot out to reach for Neil. He captured Neil’s face in his hands, a hitch of breath caught in his chest. “Neil? N—”

A beat later, Neil recognized the gray-blue tint to the eyes before him. The pale glow. “Jean,” he breathed.

The crushing relief he felt nearly knocked Neil over. He pulled Jean down by his neck, gasping as the taller body curled against his. “Jean,” he repeated, shock and comfort warming him in equal parts. “I don’t—how did you—?”

“I don’t know,” Jean mumbled, the words tumbling like water over stone. “I don’t know. I—Neil, I…I _fell_ —”

“I know.” Neil curled his fingers tighter into Jean’s cloak, a spike of fear hitting him.

 _It could have been him,_ a small voice said. _What are the chances?_

Neil wished he could kill the little voice with a particularly sharp knife.

Jean would never. He wouldn’t. As far as he could go, he would never be able to make someone fall. He would have died first.

“What are we going to do?” Jean whispered. He moved back, a few bare centimeters. “They’ll send people after us. Won’t they?”

“They can’t. The skies can’t follow us down,” Neil replied, a curling ache settling in his chest. “We’re here alone.”

“We’re never alone.”

“No,” Neil agreed, his hand finding Jean’s. “You’re right. We do this together. Yes?”

Jean held him tightly. “Yes.”

* * *

“Nothing,” Nicky explained through a mouthful of something. He made a pleased noise as he ate, his hands occupied by something sticky-looking and brown. “But the baker’s daughter might elope.”

“Fascinating.” Andrew took the remainder of Nicky’s treat. It was warm; some sort of bread with cinnamon and sugar, honey soaking through it. There were pecans in it. It seemed to dissolve on his tongue.

It was good. “Buy me one,” Andrew said, and he licked his fingers while Nicky disappeared again.

The market was just as busy as every other one Andrew had been to. They were all the same; crowded stalls, loud people, the clash of competing scents and colors. It was practically a full assault.

Andrew had learned how to avoid markets. How to rely on every other skill he had. Nicky didn’t—in fact, he probably primarily relied on markets and towns, his gift for conversation allowing him to make anyone comfortable with talking to him. Nicky pried rumor and truth from people the way Andrew dug Star fragments out of the earth.

This detour was mostly for Nicky’s benefit. He was one of those people that needed to talk, and Andrew preferred not to. He also didn’t have the patience to endure too much of Nicky’s one-sided conversations.

Besides, whatever sweet bread Nicky had brought was really delicious.

* * *

“We need clothes,” Neil murmured as he peered out from the alley, his hand curling against stone.

Jean stared. “You stole that cloak, didn’t you?”

“And you sewed yours?”

Neil shook his head and focused on the dwindling crowd. There was a stall near the edge of the market, but there weren’t enough people to safely steal anything. At least not without risking being caught. Now that there were two of them, he didn’t want to draw too much attention. The last thing he wanted was to be separated.

Whatever was done to Stars on Earth, Neil could handle. It was Jean he wanted to keep safe.

“Let’s head out of town. Maybe we can find a shop, or someone willing to trade.”

“Trade what?” Jean followed Neil down the street. He glanced over his shoulder as they walked, his shoulders stiff with tension. “We don’t have anything to sell.”

Neil ran a finger along the shard in his sleeve. _If I lose it, there’s no getting it back. I don’t know what memory it could be._

But he didn’t have a choice. Not if he wanted to survive.

“Oh, shit,” Jean said suddenly. He spun on his heel and started down a new alley.

Neil’s heart jumped in his chest and he followed, fists clenched and eyes scanning the street behind him. He was prepared to fight—prepared to do anything he had to—

—but then Jean skidded to a halt and peered around the corner. “Stay here,” he whispered.

“What—”

Jean turned the corner and Neil bit his tongue, frustrated. He could only watch, and then he saw Jean approach a line with clothes hanging from it. Jean snatched shirts and pants easily, then quietly jogged back to Neil. “Found clothes.”

Neil huffed a laugh. “Yeah. You sure did.”

☆

The sunset reminded him of a star—oranges and reds, a yellow glow. Watercolor blends. It was just missing the blackness of space around it.

Things looked different, from the ground. Some things, he’d never seen before. Neil had heard of them, in snatches he’d read or been told about. It was something else to have clouds above his head and grass underfoot.

“What do you think happened?” Jean whispered. It was still warm, despite the late hour, but his arms were wrapped around his chest.

Neil shook his head once; tried to knock away the thoughts clouding his mind. “I don’t know.”

Making a star fall was punishable by something close to death. You could be sent to Earth in a blaze, or onto the surface of a distant planet. There was no hope, after that.

If there was one thing he remembered, though, it was the burning of larger stars. The gravity of giants and the distant silence of black holes.

His father, with violence and bursts of heat that scarred Neil every time.

“Someone wanted us gone,” Jean murmured.

Neil glanced at him, uncertain. “Do you…are there things you don’t remember?”

“How would I know if I don’t remember?”

“All right—”

“I don’t know how I got here, if that’s what you mean.” Jean shrugged, running a hand over his dark hair. “I know that I fell. I know that I crawled out of a pond, or something. That there was no one around.”

“Well, we both landed in empty places. Miraculously,” Neil muttered. He shook his head, frustrated, and came to a stop. Jean slowed to a halt before him, then turned to look at Neil.

“What?”

“Maybe someone wanted us to have a chance.”

Jean stared incredulously. “Then they wouldn’t have sent us here. You know there are moons we could have landed on. Anywhere but this planet, where the dominant life forms actively hunt us.”

Neil smiled crookedly. “You’re a lot more talkative on Earth, you know that?”

“It’s not like I’ll get out of this alive,” Jean muttered, crossing his arms over his chest. “Why bother holding back?”

* * *

Nicky squawked as he fell into the pond. “ _God_ ,” he groaned.

“God can’t hear you.”

“Shut up and help me out,” he muttered, extending a hand. Andrew only helped him because listening to Nicky splashing in the water was annoying.

As he pulled, something bright caught Andrew’s eye. He squinted and let go of Nicky’s hand, ignoring the offended cry his cousin gave as Nicky stumbled. “Seriously? What the hell—”

“Hm.” Andrew crouched at the edge of the water. He stared into its depths, already annoyed at what he’d have to do. He reached in gingerly, the cold slipping against his skin as he dug into the shifting silt.

He could feel its warmth in his hand. A pulse and flicker.

Andrew snatched his hand back and dropped the shard onto the ground. It was gray-blue, shifting like an opal with spots of white and brighter color.

“Nice.” Nicky peered down at the shard, chin in hand. “Think it’s mine, or yours?”

“You should know,” Andrew said darkly. Nicky winced. “Yours. The path fits.”

Nicky sighed. “Well, at least I have part. I wonder why it broke?”

 _Who cares._ Andrew watched Nicky wrap it with cloth, carefully dropping it into a pouch at his neck. Sometimes, stars fragmented. The weaker ones shattered upon impact, and their pieces were usually combed from the seafloor by fishermen. The ones that hit on land were collected by farmers or common people, and they used them as expensive trading pieces for goods—or for social standing.

A good shard could move a family from the fields to the Inner City.

The stronger ones took on bodies, though. They were more complete, and they remembered, which made them dangerous. Flighty. A star that remembered what the sky was like would never stay on Earth, and that made them desperate. They fought, and they struggled, no matter how many times they were told they couldn’t return.

You couldn’t put a star back in the sky. It just didn’t work that way.

“I bet they’re pretty,” Nicky mused, rolling the pouch in his hands. “It was a nice color.”

“It doesn’t matter, and you shouldn’t care.” Andrew rose from where he was crouched, flicking water off his hand. It was dangerous to be interested in stars. The only ones allowed to care about them were the people in the Capitol.

Stars were more important than everyone else, for whatever reason. They were just another privileged class that people with less were tasked to find, only because finding them meant you could buy your way somewhere safer.

Andrew was going to buy Nicky and Aaron a new life. He was going to guarantee their place at the Capitol, so they could live somewhere away from falling stars and comet showers that were growing ever more common. So that they could be safe from the strife that followed the impact of a star and the people that fought tooth and nail to capture them first.

Andrew was one of the best Hunters he knew, and he was going to use that. No matter the cost.

* * *

“What are we going to do?”

Neil blinked slowly. Concentrated on his forehead pressed to Jean’s.

The thing about having a body was that you could touch. Feeling it this way was different than in the sky—with skin against skin, there was an odd spark. The sensation only a human body could convey. In the sky, there was closeness, but it was different. Very different.

Neil thought he might like touch.

“I don’t know,” he admitted quietly. “All I know is that we have to stay hidden.”

Jean nodded minutely, just a shift of his head where it touched Neil’s. “If they catch up to us—”

“They won’t, and if they do, I’ll keep you safe.”

“You’re small.” Jean huffed out a laugh, his eyes dancing with a sad light. “How could you?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Neil curled his fingers around the edge of his sleeve, feeling the shard there. It was warmer now, as if his body heat had given it life. “Sleep.”

“I’ve never slept before,” Jean said, his words slow and slurred. His eyes were fluttering shut even while he tried to stay awake. “How do you even do it?”

“Close your eyes,” Neil whispered. “And think of something nice.”

Jean hummed. He was warm, they had discovered, and it helped for them to huddle close as the night wore on. “I could stay here,” he mumbled. “This isn’t too bad. It’s soft here. You…”

“Good. That’s good,” Neil replied, his voice even lower. He could hear Jean’s breath slowing. “Just think about it. The grass, the sunlight, the water. This time you don’t fall in.”

Jean laughed, a tired and short tumble of sound, and then he was asleep.

Neil pulled his knees closer to his chest. Thought about the shard, about falling, about who was after them. _I have to keep him safe._

No matter what.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you're enjoying this so far! I loved this AU concept when I randomly thought about it. It'll be about 20ish chapters that I planned, but you can never tell what gets squashed and what is drawn out, so. Don't quote me.


	3. Fell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andrew and Nicky look for answers. Meanwhile, Neil has a disturbing encounter.

“They’re not here.” Nicky frowned, worrying at the end of one of the braids framing his face. He flicked it against his lips as he stared down at the ground.

Andrew turned away. “Astounding.”

The field was empty, save for a single tree that was bent crookedly like a beckoning finger. The grass was soft; it whispered against Andrew’s legs, rustling softly in a passing breeze.

As far as the eye could see, there was nothing. Nothing but sky and flat land. In the distance, Andrew knew there was a small town—but it was hardly visible from here. From the packed and beaten earth, where a Star had fallen.

“I don’t think they even left Dust,” Nicky marveled, running a golden-brown hand against the earth.

“It.” Andrew paced away, eyes scanning the ground. _There has to be something._

Nicky sighed and came closer. “We aren’t going to find anything.”

“Not with that attitude,” Andrew mocked. The irritation mounting beneath his skin told him Nicky was right. Whatever Star had fallen, it hadn’t left anything behind.

It was strong. Different. _Not even Dust._

“Come on.” Nicky waved, already walking away. “We need information.”

“You’re walking in the wrong direction.”

He wasn’t. Andrew knew why Nicky was walking away from the nearby town. Why he was instead intent on traveling toward the trees that lay just beyond sight, where the forest began.

Nicky grinned and looked over his shoulder. “Come on, Andrew. We need a Star.”

☆

“Kevin, I can believe.”

“But not me?” Nicky snorted. They stood under a tree—this one bigger than the one in the field, with reaching arms and a heavy canopy of leaves. It was old. There were scars in the thick bark. “You should know better.”

_I should._

They were approaching a cabin that lay on the edge of the forest, at the very ends of the paved road between cities. The Path ended here, though packed dirt extended from its wavering line. Few traveled beyond this point, or even to this point.

Yet here they were.

“This is a waste of time,” Andrew said.

“Oh, Heavens. Come on, Andrew,” Nicky replied, annoyed. “It won’t take long. You know as well as I that he’d know where to look.”

“So do I.”

Nicky chose to ignore the argument. He walked toward the cabin instead, abandoning eating the orange he’d made them stop for. Andrew followed, but he kept a few paces between them. The last thing he wanted was to go exactly where Nicky was going.

The cabin was surrounded by greenery. There was a garden to the right of the front door, and the left side was populated by roses. The lawn sported an assortment of flowers. There were two trees on either side of the house, their branches protectively shielding the cabin.

It seemed like the sun shone directly on the plot of land. Andrew squinted and flipped his hood up.

Nicky rapped on the door. It was etched with precious metals, thin vines and flourishes decorating the wood. Andrew knew every property and protection they afforded. As beautiful as the door looked, it was guarded. Strong.

Like Jeremy, Kevin would probably say, and then the door opened to reveal the Star. He wasn’t unattractive, Andrew thought, but he was _bright._ Even in daylight, there was a golden glow radiating from him. His honey-bright eyes held shining flecks that were nearly white. The same Dust rose under the skin of his cheekbones and lips, though Andrew suspected Jeremy probably used something cosmetic over it, too.

“Nicky.” Jeremy beamed, and then Nicky had an armful of Star. Jeremy laughed delightedly. “It’s so good to see you! It’s been too long.”

“It has,” Nicky agreed, ruffling Jeremy’s hair. It was just as golden as everything else about him. “I brought Andrew with me.”

“Oh?” Jeremy wasn’t intimidated by Andrew, for whatever reason. Perhaps he didn’t have a sense of self-preservation. Andrew wasn’t certain. “How are you, Andrew?”

“Looking for a Star. Two,” Andrew added pointedly, staring at Nicky.

Nicky rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Look—we both have assignments, and we could use some help.”

“’We’,” Andrew muttered, arms crossed.

Jeremy didn’t seem to mind Andrew’s displeasure. He hummed thoughtfully and pulled his front door open wider, waving them inside.

The cabin was larger than it should be. Andrew considered it was that way because sometimes Kevin was there, but then, Jeremy and Kevin hadn’t met immediately after Jeremy fell. Unless Stars had some form of precognition—which would just make Andrew’s job that much more annoying—he doubted Jeremy purposefully built such a large place for more people than himself.

Vanilla and caramel were warm in the air; Nicky sighed in pleasure as he followed Jeremy to the kitchen. The table was scattered with papers. Pages of sketches, images of plants from the garden, and unfinished maps of the woods. There was a plate of what looked like bread, the surface patterned like tortoiseshell and covered with brightly-colored sugar.

Everything about Jeremy’s cabin went against who and what Kevin was. It didn’t make _sense_. Andrew didn’t know why Jeremy bothered. Kevin would never leave his work for the Capitol. He’d never take this quiet life in the country.

“So? What’s the problem?” Jeremy stood at the small oven, lifting a kettle and carrying it toward three mugs lined on his countertop. “It must be important if you can’t figure it out yourselves.”

“We followed their trails,” Nicky explained, choosing a yellow loaf of bread from the center of the table. When he bit in, it left a fine dust of sugar at the corner of his mouth, like pollen from a flower. “At least one of them didn’t fracture at all upon impact. Not even any dust that we could find.”

Jeremy paused. Glanced over his shoulder, thoughtful. The significance of his reaction wasn’t lost on Andrew.

“Oh? What about the other one?”

“We think maybe it fell into the water, somewhere. We found a shard in a nearby river,” Nicky explained, wiggling the pouch at his neck with his free hand.

Jeremy nodded and hooked his fingers through the handles of the mugs he’d filled. He slid them onto the table; Andrew took his and lifted it to his face. Steam curled around his cheeks, warm fingers whispering against his skin. It smelled like chocolate and caramel, rich and sweet.

At least Jeremy was good for one thing. He usually had plenty of sweets.

Andrew sipped the drink while Jeremy took a seat, his legs crossed on the seat of his chair. “Did they fall near one another?”

“Not really.” Nicky frowned. “Well, I don’t think so. Mine would have fallen in water, and there wasn’t any close to the impact site of Andrew’s.”

“But how long ago did they fall?”

Nicky was quiet. “Three days, maybe four.”

“They had time to meet, before you reached the sites.”

“They’re never that coherent,” Andrew said shortly, finally interrupting the conversation.

Jeremy raised an eyebrow. “Never?”

He was trying to get one of them to say it, but Andrew wouldn’t.

“You mean like Kevin,” Nicky said, and Andrew kicked his shin under the table.

“Like Kevin,” Jeremy agreed. “Renee. There are times when we know what we’re doing, you know.”

He was right, but he was also completely wrong. Kevin had fallen, but he’d been found by Wymack, who happened to care enough to give him time to acclimate. Renee—well. She was just different, and she’d been lucky to fall somewhere the impact hadn’t shattered her.

Each time a Star managed to make it, they had help. It didn’t make sense for the two that Andrew and Nicky were looking for to have met each other and somehow puzzled out their lives. Fallen Stars didn’t remember things when they fell.

Never.

* * *

“Do you remember what happened?”

Neil curled his arms around his legs. They were hidden away, here—Neil and Jean, their cloaks and ill-fitting clothes camouflaging them almost as well as the foliage. Thing smelled— _green_. Neil didn’t know how to explain it. It was almost like the sky, where he could hear yellow and white and red. Only this was smell, and it was different. Strange.

Jean shook his head. “No. I remember you,” he added, firmer. “I know you.”

“I know.”

The moon was out. The stars, too. A hollow note rang in Neil’s chest—he could look up, probably, and find the place he used to belong. The empty space in the sky.

He remembered.

Whatever the fall had done to him, it was over, now. Neil remembered—had been remembering, in bits and pieces, what things used to be like. His father and the _others_. The way some days, Neil had prayed to fall. Radiated pain like light, because he had no way to escape.

He remembered Jean, and how they leaned on one another. How their parents had each fed from them, taking pieces of their light while Neil and Jean desperately took comfort in escaping with one another. In watching the Earth below and telling stories, of birds and rivers and open skies.

Neil had a feeling his father threw him from the heavens. He also had a feeling Jean’s fall was his fault.

“I’m glad I’m here with you,” Jean murmured. He was already nodding off; Neil helped him down, gently pulling Jean from his resting place against a tree. “I’m glad.”

“Me too.” _And if it’s my fault? Then what?_

Jean fell asleep as Neil sat there, hands curled in the dirt. If it was his fault, he couldn’t forgive himself.

* * *

“You know—did you ever wonder what it is you give Stars? When you find them?”

Nicky frowned at Jeremy. “What do you mean?”

Jeremy rose from the table to rinse his mug. The water trickled softly as he worked. Outside, the sky was changing from blue to violet. Pink and orange swirled just above the setting sun. “I mean,” Jeremy explained, “Do you ever wonder what’s in the vial?”

“I’m not smart enough to know.” Nicky snorted, but the glance he sent toward Andrew was pensive. “But Aaron does. I mean, he helps work on stuff like that.”

Of course. Andrew reached for Nicky’s mug and switched it with his empty one.

Aaron would know. He would know, but Andrew doubted he would care. Aaron had Katelyn now, and he had everything he damn well needed, other than a ticket out of the Capitol. He was stuck there doing what _they_ want, and Andrew was stuck here trying to change that.

Of all the stupid promises.

Jeremy shook his head. “Well, I’ll tell you this—I never took it.”

Andrew paused with his mug halfway to the table. Nicky’s eyes widened as he stared at Jeremy, his hands curled tightly around the edge of the table. “Jere—”

“You know what it means? That you told _us_?” Andrew interrupted, agitated.  _Don’t you drag me into your foolishness,_ he thought, but he had already given up.

“Of course, I do.” Jeremy finished washing his mug and came to sit at the table, patiently folding his hands. “And I’m telling you because it’s important. I never took the vial—it was before my time, or maybe the Hunter forgot. I’m not sure.”

“And?” Nicky prompted, tense. “What about it?”

“I remember,” Jeremy said simply. “I remember the sky, and I remember how I fell.”

* * *

Neil woke suddenly. He woke, and he felt as if he hadn’t slept at all. He was tired.

The sky was still dark. He sighed softly through barely-parted lips, his hands pressed to his cheeks. He felt unreal. _This_ felt unreal.

_“Well, it is. Real. Get used to it.”_

Neil spun to find a figure standing by him. A young man, or something like that. He was pale—far too pale, even to Neil’s limited knowledge. His hair was blue-black, and his eyes were a deep obsidian. There was a pale ring around his pupils, a shifting light. His lips looked oddly stained—as if he had spilled blood from them, and the color feathered out from the center.

“Who are you?” _I could fight him. Let Jean run._

The figure didn’t move. Didn’t even look down at Jean. _“Who are you?”_

“Neil,” he said automatically. He watched the stranger’s mouth curl ironically, the corner sharp.

_“That’s not your name. Not really.”_

Neil pushed himself to his feet. Took a step back. “How do you know?”

 _“So guarded.”_ The stranger’s eyes fluttered shut a little, their light flickering. _“I know you. You know me.”_

“No, I don’t.” Neil curled his hands tight. A fist probably wouldn’t do anything, but he had to try. He had to keep Jean safe. He wasn’t sure what this was or what the stranger wanted. They didn’t seem like a Hunter, but Neil didn’t trust him.

The stranger’s eyes opened slowly again. He moved closer, and Neil realized his footsteps didn’t make sound. Nothing at all.

_“Nathaniel. You know me.”_

“I don’t,” Neil repeated, his heart racing, and he didn’t like that—he had a heart now, and he could feel it painfully in his chest. He could feel his fear. “I don’t know you,” he insisted, and his throat felt too tight. “I don’t—”

 _“You know me,”_ the stranger said, and Neil watched a flower bloom on his pale brow. It was red, and a pink one opened from within it, the colors dripping and melting together. There was a trickle down his face, and then another—

—and then Neil realized the center of the flowers was a black hole, ragged and torn, through the center of the stranger’s head.

“No,” Neil said, and his voice sounded distant to his own ears. “No—”

His ears were filled with static, and all he could see was the red-black-white, and Neil might have screamed—

—but then he was staring at nothing, and the figure was gone.

Neil could hear his breath, heavy and fast. He could feel the tightness in his chest. The fear still gripping him like nails in his new body.

 _Something’s coming,_ a small voice whispered in his mind, and it sounded like the stranger.

Neil didn’t trust it, but he trusted Earth even less. He fell to his knees and shook Jean awake. “We have to go,” he said, his voice unsteady and infected with fear. “We have to go _now._ ”

* * *

“What do you mean, you ‘remember’?” Nicky echoed, stunned. “You can’t—”

“I mean, I remember,” Jeremy said seriously. “I remember everything.”

“And you think it’s because of the vial.” Andrew’s fingers traced the glass at his belt. He could feel it—whatever _it_ was—pulling up toward his touch. The liquid reached for him. “Because you didn’t take it.”

“That stuff is meant to make us forget,” Jeremy said quietly, his hands pressed to the smooth wood of the table. “Some of us have. Others have pieces. I have it all.”

“Why?” Nicky shook his head, his arms pulling in against his chest. “Why would it matter if you remembered? It doesn’t—”

“It does,” Jeremy interrupted. “It matters because it’s wrong.”

 _Wrong._ Andrew scoffed. “You’d think it would be a blessing not to remember how you fell. How you may have been thrown.” He stared at Jeremy. “You can’t tell me some of them don’t want to forget.”

“And who gave them that choice?” Jeremy asked quietly.

Choice. Andrew almost laughed. _Who gave them the choice to fall?_ There were no choices; not when it came to falling. Once a Star fell, it was done. They could not be returned. They were stuck on Earth, and they weren’t suited for it. If they needed a vial to be stable enough to exist, that was just how things would work. An unfortunate fact of life that was better accepted than fought.

 _Stars were meant for the sky,_ Renee once said. _And sometimes, they never stop wanting to go back._

There were Stars that broke themselves. Some that purposefully shattered, because the torment of being grounded hurt more than the pain of ending hundreds or thousands of years of existence. Something so endless could not comprehend or accept a physical body. Limitations.

Stars were meant for the sky. That was it.

“It’s the truth,” Jeremy said simply. “The Capitol knows what it is doing.”

“For what?” Andrew replied. “To keep Stars from dissolving, probably. Just because you were lucky enough to stay sane doesn’t mean each one could. You know how often Stars shatter.”

“Ones that took the vial, too,” Jeremy pointed out. “You can’t tell me you know what’s best either way, Andrew. There has to be a choice.”

 _Choice._ The word grated against Andrew’s skin. Dug in like a million razor-sharp teeth. He could hear something at the back of his mind; a little voice, laughing. Words.

“Andrew,” Nicky said quietly. “If—”

A distant noise broke the silence. It was nearly too soft to hear, but the feeling of the windows in the cabin rattling was unmistakable. Nicky looked to Andrew, alarmed, and then all three of them left the kitchen table.

There was a small town hardly visible from Jeremy’s side window, but they could see it—and they could see the smoke rising from its edge.

“Something’s happening,” Nicky gasped, and he rushed to the door to grab his cloak.

Andrew had never taken his off. He took the steps two at a time as he left the cabin, and he didn’t wait for Nicky. He could hear his cousin following.

“Be careful,” Jeremy said quickly, following them away from his cabin. “This is dangerous. You know as well as I how much more often Stars have been falling.”

“And so?” Andrew waited for an answer. Some other revelation.

Jeremy had stopped following them, but Andrew heard his words as Nicky broke into a run.

“And so will you, if they want you to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while, and I apologize for that. I'm currently jobless and rent is coming up so soon that I'm starting to panic. I figured this was a good way to distract myself, for now!


	4. Explode

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicky and Andrew race toward the explosion. Neil and Jean do their best to hide, but they're caught between bad and worse.

“Where are we going?”

Jean was afraid. Neil could tell that much from his voice; from the way his hand tightened in Neil’s.

It hadn’t been early morning when Neil woke up, like he’d thought. They had nearly slept an entire day. The sun was setting again, and they’d spent hours in one place. _Dangerous._

Neil still didn’t know what he’d seen, or if it was true. He wasn’t willing to take the chance. “Something is coming,” he said again, the same thing he’d told Jean when they first started running. “We aren’t safe.”

There was a city in the distance. It was visible just beyond a cresting hill that obscured the land on the other side of the road. They were almost there— _almost safe_ —

—and then Neil ground to a halt as he heard a low, fast rumble.

_No._

Jean froze beside Neil. His grip tightened, and Neil could hear his breath stop; everything seemed suspended. Held in anticipation. It was the moment of silence before something terrible.

 _We have to go,_ Neil thought, but he could not force himself to move.

He could only watch as the horses began to emerge from behind the hill. They seemed to grow like weeds, crowded and ominous. The riders themselves were mostly unremarkable, save for the one figure that rode at the head of the group.

He seemed to suck the light around him into his person, where it disappeared into the folds of his heavy cloak. His black clothes were more than just dark. Neil had seen many kinds of darkness—the emptiness of space, the way night looked on Earth, the way shadows could obscure things. This was different.

This man’s darkness was almost like a black hole. It wasn’t even color. It was _nothing_.

“Neil.” Jean’s hand tugged at him. “Neil, _please._ ”

When the man on the horse turned, Neil could see his face from within the shadow of his hood. There was nothing otherworldly about it; no celestial features or monstrous shapes. Perhaps that was what made him so terrifying. He was only a man, but a horrifying one, his nearly-white skin stretched over high cheekbones and around black eyes.

He saw Neil. He _saw_.

The moment of eye contact seemed to break the spell. Neil turned on his heel and ran.

“He saw us—Neil, he—”

“I know! Run!”

Neil couldn’t tell if the thumping in his ears was his heart or the hoofbeats behind him. For the first time, he could not think of a way he could survive with Jean. He wasn’t even sure if staying behind would save Jean. If giving himself up would distract them at all, or if it would simply seal their fate.

The city was so close. It was so close, and Neil could hear shouting behind him. Voices of men overlapping angrily, half-formed war cries tearing through the air.

 _Make it into the gates,_ Neil told himself. _Just make it through the gates._

He didn’t know why it mattered. The walls of the city wouldn’t keep him safe. Yet still he ran, his strange body straining to keep up with the frantic need to run faster. Neil could barely feel the ground beneath his feet.

They only just crossed the boundaries of the gates when something sailed by their shoulders. Neil gasped as he yanked Jean into an alley, throwing them down just before something exploded. The ground seemed to shake with the impact, and then there was a ringing silence.

Jean didn’t move. Neil felt his heart pound— _wrong, this is all wrong_ —and he pulled at Jean’s arm. “Get up. Jean, get _up_.”

Neil coughed. He could feel grit and sand in his throat; his breath wheezed in his lungs. He hated it; he hated how it felt, and he hated that he could feel it at all.

_I don’t belong here. This place is going to kill me._

But he wouldn’t let it kill Jean.

“Get up,” Neil hissed again, and this time, his pull seemed to shake Jean back to life. The taller Star stumbled but followed as Neil led him down back alleys, avoiding the main street that was beginning to bustle with action.

People were gasping and shouting. Children cried in the distance. Neil caught snatches of words— _pirates, thieves, gang_. All kinds of accusations.

The men in the group could have been, Neil thought. But the one at the front—the one with the black clothes and dark eyes—he was no thief. Even at a glance, Neil had known. He’d seen how richly the man was dressed, and how there had been a small circle of empty land around him where no one dared venture. He was not some pirate. He was someone important.

“Where are we even going to go?” Jean gasped, coughing into his hand. “There were so many of them—”

“They’re not following,” Neil said. He realized it as they went further, and it sent chills down his spine. _Why aren’t they following?_ _Is it because of the city?_

He didn’t know what to think.

Jean stopped walking. Neil looked back, surprised, but Jean pulled his arm. He was looking out toward the opening of the alley, and his face was pale. “Hide,” he whispered. “We have to hide.”

Neil didn’t bother asking what— _who_ —Jean had seen. He pulled them both toward the next alley and between a stack of crates. Jean closed them in, pulling a barrel toward his legs to obscure them. Neil shifted one of the crates just enough to see out toward the street. He could already feel the hard stones of the alleyway pressing bruises into his knees.

The noises outside didn’t stop, but Neil felt as if things dimmed to a low roar. It was as if his ears stopped working, or he’d hit his head. The world seemed as if it were submerged in water, and every sound came echoing distantly toward him.

The man was on the street. No one seemed to notice him; he walked between people, his cloak fluttering with each step.

Neil pressed his lips together. He wasn’t sure if speaking would give them away. _How can he be invisible to everyone? Or do they simply ignore him?_ He couldn’t imagine anyone pretending the man wasn’t there. Not when he radiated dark energy the way he did, menacing and endless.

Someone came close to the man. _So, he’s not invisible. Not to everyone, at least._ The new man was nondescript; he seemed like all the other riders that had been at the hill. “We haven’t seen them,” he said. “But we may find them yet. There aren’t many places to hide. They are too bright.”

“They are not.” The man in black looked around. His face seemed to be carved from stone—unmoving and disquieting. “They have hidden. I would have seen them already.”

 _He doesn’t know it was us,_ Neil realized. He almost sighed in relief. He could feel Jean sag against his shoulder in realization. _So, it was just a distraction._ The explosion was meant to flush them out. Instead, it had driven them into hiding.

The man in black took a few quiet steps toward the alley. He wasn’t looking toward the hiding place; he was gazing at the wall behind Neil and Jean. “They will come to me,” he said slowly. “Or they will be taken.”

The threat ran up Neil’s skin like nails. He held his breath as he watched the men disappear, one toward the entrance of the city and the other toward the road out. As soon as they left, Neil let out a breath of relief, closing his eyes as he leaned back against the crate behind him.

Jean curled tightly against Neil’s side. “He’ll find us,” he whispered. “You saw—”

“I saw,” Neil agreed firmly. “I don’t care. He won’t. He won’t take you. I promise.”

Jean shook his head, but Neil silenced him with a finger to his lips. They could argue once they escaped—if they could escape. The other men were still outside, and they were searching. Even with new clothes, Neil wasn’t sure he and Jean could pass undetected. Maybe the men had some way to tell what Neil and Jean were. Maybe they’d lose control of their light as they tried to focus on escaping.

Another explosion rocked the ground. Neil felt the dust of something distant raining down on him, specks dusting his hair. He covered his head with his hands, but he knew it wouldn’t help if the debris were any heavier.

“We need to go,” Jean insisted, his voice rising over the chaos. “ _Now._ ”

Neil nodded sharply. “To the entrance. Fast.”

The last thing he wanted was to run into the man in black. He cared less about the other band of men; they were different. So long as they kept their distance from the other man, they might be safe.

The chaos was worse when they emerged onto the streets. There were people everywhere, gathering food and broken baskets and other people that had fallen. Doors slammed everywhere. The men that had entered the city walked calmly amongst them, scanning corners as they went.

Neil held tightly to Jean’s hand. “Don’t look at them,” he whispered. “Just keep walking, no matter what.”

The entrance was so close. It was only a few feet away, and Neil could almost feel the fresh air on the other side—

—and then another explosion came, and something hit Jean’s back. He gasped in shock and pain as he hit the ground—

—and Neil could see light slip from Jean’s eyes at the impact.

_No._

“No,” Neil gasped, and he pulled at Jean, covering his face with his hood. “No, no, no—”

There were footsteps behind him. Neil didn’t dare turn and look; he could only pull Jean’s arm over his shoulder. _I won’t leave him here. I can’t._ He struggled to stand even as dust raced along the ground. Voices echoed distantly; he thought they were saying to wait or stop.

_Not him. They can’t take him._

There were feet before him. Neil saw them as he began to stand, his pulse skyrocketing suddenly. He followed the black boots with their buckles and laces up a pair of strong legs, toward a belt with daggers. A broad chest and arms covered with black bands. A small, oval stone that flickered with colorless light at the man’s neck, clasped over a dark cloak.

Neil looked up into a pale face and black eyes, greenish light cutting the darkness into two rings. The man looked down at him, pale blond hair whispering against his cheekbones. Even with strange eyes, Neil could see no emotion on the man’s face.

Not even when he said, “Get up.”

Neil didn’t understand. Had no clue who this man was, or what he was about to do. Perhaps that was why, standing with Jean leaning heavily against him, he said, “I am up.”

The green light flickered.

Someone else’s voice broke Neil’s stare. There was another man with the pale one—a taller man, closer to Jean’s height. He had a head full of wavy brown hair and a golden cast to his warm brown skin. There was a line of concern between his eyebrows and as he turned his head, Neil could see braids threaded with color glittering in the sunlight.

“Hey. Here, let me help,” the taller man said, reaching for Jean. Neil took a half-step back, but he swayed with Jean’s added weight.

The voices behind him caught Neil’s attention. It was the same man that had been talking to the man in black. He approached without concern, apparently unworried at the two bizarre figures that had appeared at the gate. Even to Neil, the pale man didn’t look normal.

“Excuse you. We’re in the middle of something,” the man announced, gesturing widely at the city behind him. “If you don’t mind—”

“I’m Nicky,” the taller man explained, smiling at Neil. He completely ignored the other man; Neil almost choked. “I just want to help. Okay?”

“I was talking,” the other man said, a note of irritation creeping into his voice.

“We heard. Unfortunately,” the pale man said drily.

“Andrew,” Nicky hissed, but it was too late.

The stranger walked up toward the pale man— _Andrew_ —and stared down at him. Neil realized a second later just how short Andrew really was. It was almost comical to watch him stare impassively at the other man.

“We have business here,” the stranger said quietly, and Neil held his breath as he tapped a blade against Andrew’s chest. “So leave us to hunt the stars, eh?”

Neil saw it coming before it happened. He noticed the shift in Andrew’s posture, and then Andrew was twisting the stranger’s wrist and his own dagger was at the man’s throat. In less than three seconds, the stranger was wincing on his knees, a hiss of pain escaping his lips as his knife clatter to the ground.

“Anything that falls is the property of the Capitol,” Andrew said. His voice was nearly monotone, barely any inflection infecting his words. The only suggestion of violence or anger was his dagger at the other man’s neck. “You are not hunting. You are robbing.”

The other man ground down a noise of pain. A tiny drop of blood curled around the edge of Andrew’s dagger. “Untrue,” the man spit. “We would sell—”

“Sell what belongs to the Capitol, to the Capitol?” Andrew dug the blade in deeper. “I wonder if you listen to yourself when you speak.”

“Andrew,” Nicky finally said. “Let’s go.”

Andrew contemplated the man before him. For a second, Neil wondered if he’d bury his dagger in the man’s shoulder. Andrew withdrew after a long moment, wiping his blade on the man’s shirt. As he sheathed it, he gestured toward Nicky.

Nicky sighed, but Neil watched him approach the man. “We won’t warn you if we see you again.”

It was all Nicky said before he grabbed the man’s head and slammed it into his knee.

Neil winced at the sound of the man’s nose breaking, but a quiet sense of satisfaction bled through him. The man fell to the ground, unconscious. Neil could hear the others retreating from the city.

Unorthodox methods, he thought, but at least Nicky and Andrew had stopped the chaos. _Right?_

“What happened?”

Nicky’s question shook Neil back to reality. He glanced at Jean, uneasy. “I don’t know. An explosion—”

“Ah. Shit,” Nicky mumbled, interrupting Neil. He frowned as he reached for Jean’s face. Neil almost knocked his hands away, but Nicky paused, spreading his fingers. “I won’t hurt him. Really. I know about Stars. I can help.”

 _It’s already over,_ Neil realized, despair settling in his chest.

He should have guessed they couldn’t run long, but the truth still hit him hard. All he wanted was to protect Jean, but it seemed like that wasn’t an option. There were too many people after them, and they couldn’t navigate the world alone.

Sooner or later, he’d have to trust someone to be of use to him. Even if he didn’t trust them with Jean.

“What are you going to do?” Neil asked quietly.

“Take him somewhere nearby,” Nicky explained. “There’s another Star that lives by the forest. He’ll know how to look after him. I won’t make him travel when he’s like this.”

Neil closed his eyes for a moment. “You don’t even know his name.”

Nicky nodded, almost solemn. He didn’t ask; he waited. Like it made a difference. Like he cared.

Neil almost believed that he did.

“Jean.” Neil blinked, shocked, and looked at Jean. He was speaking, but his voice was low. Tired. “My name is Jean.”

He caught Neil’s eye. Seemed to say that he understood—that he recognized how dangerous it was to give them a name or trust the strangers at all.

 _At least you have the nice one,_ Neil thought, raising his eyebrows. A tiny, helpless smile twisted Jean’s lips. _I guess we’ll see._

“I won’t wait,” Andrew said shortly. He began to walk away, and Nicky sputtered, half-sentences ending on his lips before he sighed.

“Yeah. Sorry about him.” Nicky ran a hand over his face tiredly. “I’ll take care of Jean,” he added seriously. “I promise.”

“Do. Or I’ll know,” Neil replied quietly. He was lying, of course—but it didn’t matter.

Something told him he could trust Nicky. He had no clue what.

Well, he did know. It was that same unfamiliar voice in his ear. The voice of the person he’d seen in a nightmare, or a dream. The pale young man with a rose on his forehead.

 _Maybe I’m going crazy,_ Neil thought. _Maybe I shouldn’t even trust it._

“Neil?” Nicky frowned, biting at his lip. He glanced at Andrew, and Neil could see the hesitation in his eyes. The conflict. He was about to say something he didn’t want to, or maybe he didn’t want to believe.

Neil held his breath. “What?”

“Trust him. Andrew.”

“Why should I?”

“He’ll keep you in one piece.” Nicky bit at his lip again, nervous. “I mean it. Listen to him.”

 _He doesn’t even believe himself,_ Neil realized. He looked at Jean and wondered—

— _is this the last time I’ll see him?_

Jean inhaled sharply. He reached out and tugged Neil in without warning, his hands tight in Neil’s cloak. “I only just found you,” he whispered. “We just—”

“You’re going to be fine. You’re going to live,” Neil promised. _If Nicky doesn’t trust Andrew, it’s good you’re going with him. Maybe he’ll keep you safe. Maybe he’ll save you, better than I could._ He doesn’t say any of these things, but Neil knows Jean understands him.

“Come back.” Jean’s voice is so quiet it’s almost gone. “Whatever you do, come back for me. Okay?”

“I promise,” Neil said, even though he couldn’t keep it. _At least I’ll die trying._ “I’ll come back for you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> time for the story to begin...


	5. Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neil and Andrew begin their journey. Neil doesn't quite trust Andrew, but he doesn't have any other choice. Meanwhile, the ghost at his side is a nagging question that haunts him just as much as the fall he can't entirely remember.

Neil did not trust Andrew at all.

It wasn’t just because of Nicky’s odd behavior, or Andrew’s strange appearance. It wasn’t even the silence—Neil could handle silence, especially after the chaos in the city.

The thing was, Andrew was eating an apple as they walked, and Neil didn’t trust someone who would eat an apple and eat an apple while walking.

_While walking._

Of course, it was the moment he had that thought that the figure in Neil’s periphery spoke.

Well, sort of.

It was the young man with the flower on his forehead. The flower wasn’t there yet, but the hole was, and Neil pointedly avoided both it and the apparition.

_“You’re pretty judgmental for someone that doesn’t remember a good portion of what they did, aren’t you?”_

“Shut up,” Neil muttered.

Andrew turned halfway. He didn’t immediately say anything, but he did pointedly crunch loudly on the dripping meat of the apple in his hand. He chewed unworriedly, his eyes still on Neil until he finished the bite in his mouth. Finally, he said, “Why.”

It wasn’t even a question. That irritated Neil a little further—he almost wanted to reply back with _how_ and see how long Andrew would continue the list before stabbing him.

“You still haven’t told me where we’re going,” Neil said instead. _Remember Jean,_ he told himself. _You have to stay alive for him._

Andrew turned around again. “Incredible. Water is wet.”

Well, that was annoying.

Neil knew better than to pull Andrew’s cloak, or even remotely touch him. He remembered the way Andrew had dealt with the man in the city, and he wasn’t going to invite a dagger to his throat. He wasn’t sure how his body would handle it.

Instead, Neil opted to reach out. He figured Andrew would see his hand and turn around; he wasn’t going to touch at all—

—but Andrew was so quick to react that Neil almost fell back, onto the ground.

How Andrew managed to find a slope just then to stand a little taller, Neil had no clue. He only stared up at Andrew, whose hand was curled around the hilt of his sheathed dagger. “Don’t—”

“Touch,” Neil finished. He kept his tone neutral; at this point, no matter how irritated he was, he wasn’t looking to make an enemy of Andrew. “I know.”

 _Then?_ Andrew didn’t ask, but he stood staring down at Neil.

He really was odd-looking. There was a difference between the black of what Neil assumed was his pupil, and the black of his iris. It was almost like looking at a black hole—the center was void, and the outside was only a little less dark. The green ring was more interesting to Neil, anyway.

Black holes weren’t the same as Stars. They couldn’t fall. But somehow, Neil felt like Andrew was the same. Somehow.

 _“Please don’t tell me you’re sentimental about him,”_ the stranger said sharply. He was a ghost, Neil decided, so that is what he would call him. The ghost must have known that, somehow, because his next words were a protest. _“Maybe if you asked—”_

“I’m not asking because I want to talk to you,” Neil told Andrew, ignoring the agitated ghost at his side. “I am asking because I need to know how I am going to survive. If I even will,” he added darkly.

 _There._ There was a little twitch of Andrew’s eyebrow; a crack in his façade, there and gone just as fast. It was a moment of annoyance that slid past his expressionless gaze, and Neil clung to it with both hands. It was proof.  Proof that Andrew was more than just the asshole eating an apple that Neil had walked with for the past twenty minutes.

“You are not going to die if you listen to me and do exactly what I say.” Andrew punctuated each word with the same weight, as if he was talking to someone incredibly stupid. As much as it pissed Neil off, he managed to keep his mouth shut until Andrew finished. “My job is to get you to the Capitol.”

“The Capitol that supposedly owns me?”

Andrew’s mouth twitched. “Yes,” he said slowly. “Because if just anyone could pick up a Star, I can guarantee that more than half of you wouldn’t live at all.”

A chill ran up Neil’s body, crawling under his skin with a low buzz. _Was that man in black from the Capitol? Or was he trying to steal me from them?_

He didn’t even want to ask. He had a feeling Andrew wouldn’t take kindly to questioning, and his answer might not be particularly cheery. Maybe even if Andrew knew, he’d still say it was the best option. Neil didn’t even know what twisted logic Andrew was following to take him to the Capitol.

“What happens then?” Neil asked, his hands curled at his side. “When you give me to them?”

“They find something for you to do,” Andrew replied, his tone already veering into something bored and uncaring. “You don’t leave, you don’t die. That’s it. Simple.”

Andrew started to walk away. Neil almost couldn’t believe that was it—that Andrew didn’t have anything else to offer—and he rushed to catch up. “Wait. You—are you saying you’re just taking me to be locked up—”

“If living in comfort, being pampered because you came from the sky, is locked up to you, fine,” Andrew said shortly, coming to a halt again. “I couldn’t care less what you think about it. You just fell from space, you don’t know what the hell is going on—you know _nothing_. Don’t act like you’ve been betrayed. You have no idea what Earth is like.”

It was far more than Neil expected. Far, far more. He watched Andrew start walking again, and he almost didn’t follow. He wondered what would happen if he stayed rooted in place—if he simply let things happen or turned back and went to find Jean again.

Some part of Neil knew he didn’t have a choice. Andrew was right that Neil didn’t know anything about the world he’d fallen to. Neil didn’t know who to trust, or what was right or wrong. He only knew he had to survive, and for the moment, the way to do that was with Andrew.

The ghost at Neil’s side seemed to retreat, the way it always came and went, but before he did, he said, _“Don’t trust him, and don’t trust where he is taking you.”_

☆

At least one thing was obvious about Andrew. He didn’t care much about comfort, but he did care a lot about staying clean.

Neil watched Andrew stare down at his boots. He wasn’t scowling, exactly, but he was pretty close. He didn’t seem thrilled at the mud on the bottom of his shoes. _Weird._

The ghost at Neil’s side scoffed. _“Please. It’s entirely reasonable—”_

“What, so now you’re on his side?” Neil muttered.

_“You know what, maybe I won’t help you.”_

“If this is you helping, maybe that would be for the best.”

“Are you done talking to yourself?” Andrew turned, a faint line of irritation between his eyebrows the only indication of what he was feeling. “I am beginning to think you really did shatter on impact. You sure you’re not missing any pieces?”

“I don’t know, do humans typically have more than two arms and two legs? I don’t have a clue, obviously. I just fell.”

_“Oh my God.”_

Andrew didn’t seem amused by Neil’s reply. “You are by far the worst Star I’ve ever escorted.”

“Is that what you call this? Escort work?”

Neil barely noticed Andrew’s dagger slip from its sheath at his hip. He was more focused on the blade itself, the tip pressed to his chest in warning. Neil wondered if he could turn it away. If he could radiate so much light and heat it would melt.

He wondered if the heat would damage his body, or if his body could handle it. He wondered how he could fit in a human shell, when he was something else. Something hotter and brighter and so nebulous, he had never felt _boundaries_ before. He had never felt so confined.

Being human was claustrophobic.

Neil almost laughed. It wasn’t as if going back would have helped. If he was still in the sky, he would still be in danger. _Even up there, I couldn’t get away. Not from my father. Not from—_

“Stop.” Andrew’s dagger was gone, but he still stared. Watched, while Neil gathered himself in pieces.

The ghost was gone. Neil almost wished he’d come back. Instead, he had to face Andrew alone, and the realization that something had changed.

Something made Andrew back off.

Neil shook his head once. “I’m not doing anything.”

Except something happened, and that was what Andrew meant. That was what made him pull back, when before, he hadn’t hesitated to threaten.

Somehow, Neil felt the significance of the choice.

Andrew paced away. “Why were you with the other one? You drag each other down?”

“No,” Neil said automatically, firm. _I don’t know that for sure._ But he wanted it to be, and he knew at least the he would never do anything to hurt Jean. He knew Jean would never try to hurt him. “I don’t know. I found Jean after I fell.”

“How? You knew he was here?”

“No. I ran into him, and I knew it was him.” Neil could see Jean if he closed his eyes— _him,_ the bluish-gray star with softly radiating light. “I knew we had to stay together.”

Andrew’s finger traced his dagger’s sheath. It had a pattern that Neil couldn’t see from where he was, but it looked intricate. Delicate. It didn’t look like it fit with the rest of Andrew’s outfit; it was out of place. Like it was a gift, or something like that.

Neil couldn’t imagine who would give Andrew a gift. Not on Earth, and certainly not in the sky.

For some reason, Andrew stared down at his belt. There were little capsules on it, too; clear, oblong vials of some odd liquid. Neil didn’t recognize whatever it was, but he wasn’t keen to ask. Something told him Andrew wouldn’t tell, anyway.

Andrew tapped the glass. “What do you remember?”

_That’s the question, isn’t it?_

He could tell Andrew, even though he still didn’t know what Andrew planned to do with him. Even though Nicky had seemed unsure about letting Andrew take Neil. Truth was dangerous, and the more Neil gave, the less he had to bargain with. There was nothing he had anymore except himself, and apparently, plenty of people would readily break him just for what he was made of.

Not that Neil even knew. _What is a Star to these humans? And why would they break us just to have the shards?_

“Why do you need to know?” Neil countered. “My only use is to the Capitol, isn’t it?”

Andrew looked up from his belt. Even one day into traveling together, Neil was beginning to suspect there were cracks in Andrew’s armor. Little flickers of emotion that came and went like light passing under a closed door.

There was conflict on Andrew’s face. It hid as soon as Neil found it, but it was there. He had no clue what was at war; perhaps anger and curiosity, or maybe disinterest and suspicion. The specifics didn’t matter to him.

What mattered was that Andrew paused, and that was one moment more of life that Neil could cling to.

“Fine. Then, we’ll trade.” Andrew flipped his cloak over one shoulder, fingers finding an odd strap to hold it in place. He gathered dry branches as he spoke, and Neil realized the sky was changing. It was late. “You tell me something you remember, and I’ll answer a question you have.”

 _It can’t be that easy._ Neil watched Andrew for a moment, waiting for the rest of the bargain to fall into place. It didn’t come.

 _“You’re a fool,”_ the Ghost said. Neil didn’t know whether to be relieved or exasperated. _“His offer is useless. But take it, if you think it will help you.”_

“I will,” Neil said, to both of them. Only Andrew cared about the answer, and he paused his work to fix Neil with another stare. This time, there was something to it. A real, complete response. An acknowledgment.

Maybe interest. Or satisfaction.

“So,” Andrew prompted. “How did you fall?”

“I don’t know.” Neil ignored Andrew’s heavy stare and its implications. “That’s the truth,” he said, shrugging. “I only remember falling. Maybe—”

 _Maybe the pain erased it all,_ he almost said, but he didn’t. That wasn’t the question.

If Andrew caught the slip, he didn’t say anything. He only continued to gather while Neil started to help, and then he said, “So. Your question.”

“What jobs do they give us? At the Capitol?”

“Depends.” Andrew tossed a bundle of sticks at the base of a nearby tree, then continued to search, prodding a larger branch with his toe. It had fallen, Neil guessed. _Like me._ “I know one that’s a new Hunter. That was strange. Another works with medicine. Only one lives outside the Capitol, and she patches up Hunters.”

“But I thought Nicky was taking Jean to a Star.”

“He is.”

“So, isn’t he another one outside the Capitol?”

Andrew paused. Neil dumped his armful with the rest of the wood and stood before Andrew, waiting. He wondered if Andrew would refuse to answer. If this was some secret he shouldn’t know about, or if Andrew was caught in a lie.

 _Was Nicky really taking Jean to a Star?_ The thought hit Neil at once, a spike of fear and adrenaline overcoming him. He clenched a hand around nothing; he had no weapon. No way to escape and get back to the one he promised to protect. _What have I sent him into?_

Finally, Andrew spoke. “You owe me two, then.”

Neil just stared blankly. It took him a moment to realize what Andrew meant. “Fine. Yes.”

Andrew nodded, as if that was the problem. As if that distinction was more important than the answer he had to give. “I don’t know about the Star by the woods,” Andrew explained. “He fell before my time. I don’t know why he was allowed to stay, or if he was even allowed. I don’t know if the Capitol knows about him.”

The answer wasn’t what he expected, but Neil felt something unravel inside of him anyway. It was nearly relief, though he still didn’t know what to think. _If Jean is there, maybe he can go unseen, too._

The ghost laughed softly. He was near Neil’s side, but he seemed fainter. _“Maybe. Or maybe Nicky will take him in anyway. What could he have to lose?”_

Neil didn’t appreciate the answer, but he’d never really enjoyed the ghost. He wasn’t even sure it was a part of him, anymore.

It didn’t look like him. The figure was taller than him. Paler, with black hair. He didn’t look like the same type of body, and his words felt different. Strange. Whoever he was, Neil was beginning to think the shard tucked in his sleeve wasn’t part of him. It wasn’t his memory.

And if it wasn’t, he didn’t know why he couldn’t remember what happened.

“I have two,” Andrew repeated. Neil blinked; realized he’d been staring down at the pile of wood. Andrew either didn’t care or didn’t notice. “Remember that.”

“You’re not going to ask now?”

“No.” Andrew turned away, his dagger unsheathed again as he began to prepare for a fire. “But I will. Soon.”

☆

Neil woke with a start. He felt almost as if someone had shaken him, but—

—but, he knew Andrew wouldn’t. Somehow, he knew, even if he hardly knew him.

_“You already trust him, don’t you?”_

Of course. Neil turned to find the ghost, legs crossed as he sat by Neil’s side. Across the fire, Andrew was asleep. At least for now. “I have to.” The confession was bitter on his tongue. “And I don’t trust him with more. With anything, other than keeping his word.”

The ghost stared at the fire. It was dimmed, the heat confined to a tent of sticks. It would last until sunrise, but Neil suspected Andrew would be up before it was out.

The sky looked odd. Purplish-blue, like it was a watercolor painting someone had done before they’d forgotten they didn’t have black pigment. It took a moment of staring for Neil to realize what was wrong with it.

There were no stars.

Somehow, the sight chilled him. Neil felt a lump in his throat, constricting, and he tried to look closely. Tried to figure out what was wrong with him, because there _must_ have been stars. _I just can’t see them._

_They’re there. Right?_

The ghost was still staring into the flames. _“You know me.”_

“I don’t. I told you—”

 _“You knew me,”_ the ghost whispered. He looked up, and Neil could see the flower beginning to bloom on his forehead. He didn’t want to look—

—but there were hands on his face, startlingly solid, and he could not look away. He could not close his eyes, because the same question was echoing in the back of his mind, and he could not find the answer. He couldn’t open his mouth to ask, and the flower was terrible and beautiful, and he needed to know.

He needed to remember.

“Who are you?” Neil asked, and his voice came out in a hushed whisper.

The ghost’s eyes shut, and Neil could see pinpricks of light beneath them. Something just as purple-blue as the sky, dotting the pure black of his eyes. When they opened again, Neil could see the sky in them. The ghost opened his mouth just as the flower bloomed, it liquid red melting down his face in drops of thick blood.

And Neil remembered.

_Riko._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hahaha that took longer than it should have to write  
> also i hope you have theories, i love theories


	6. Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andrew doesn't trust Neil. He hardly knows anything about the Star, and besides, Neil asks too many questions.  
> Neil is different. Andrew can't compare him to any other Star. The difference is suspicious, but he doesn't have time to explore it. Not when there are other people after Neil, too.

Something about Neil was different. Andrew didn’t trust him.

Neil wasn’t like the other Stars Andrew knew.

Kevin was easy. He’d fallen when Kengo had still been in charge of the Capitol, and he’d been quickly taken under the wing of the Emperor. Something about Kevin’s concentrated energy had been alluring enough or Kengo to make him one of the first Hunters that was a Star. Kevin was trained just like the Hunters were, but he was better at convincing Stars to come with him. Despite his lack of social skills, he was a Star, and Stars trusted him.

Renee was always different. She fell with more awareness than others, and she had an intrinsic knowledge of Stars and how their pseudo-human bodies worked. She had a way of disarming people—not just Stars—and it worked to her advantage. It also worked to the Capitol’s advantage.

The thing about most Stars was that they didn’t burn as brightly as they had in the sky. They were faintly luminous, but there was no true heat to them. Their core was buried beneath a human body, and it hardly shone through their skin. It was enough to notice, but that was it.

Neil wasn’t like that.

Andrew was awake early. Too early, with the sky still a bluish-black hue. Neil was across from him, curled on the opposite side of the softly crackling fire. The Star huddled with his knees at his chest, ill-fitting clothes rumpled and drab.

In the dim hours of early morning, Andrew could see a soft glow emanating from Neil’s skin. It was a soft gold at his knuckles; a hazy color over his cheekbones, nose. Even his upper lip was graced with the shine, and Andrew found it annoyingly difficult to look away.

Kevin didn’t glow in his sleep. Renee was never brighter than the sunrise.

Yet here Neil was, as if he hadn’t really fallen and he was just one moment away from disappearing and rejoining his people in the sky. As if nothing was gone, and Neil was whole.

Andrew wasn’t sure what _whole_ meant.

He was sure of Neil rising an hour later, while the sun made its way over the horizon and the day unfolded. Andrew wanted to tell him to lie down; he hated mornings. Instead, he watched Neil rest his palm against the tree he’d been sleeping under.

Curious. There was a strange expression on Neil’s face as he touched the tree. Something hesitant, and perhaps conflicted. Uncertain.

“If you are thinking of running, I’ll save you the choice,” Andrew said.

Neil didn’t even flinch. He turned toward Andrew, reddish hair ruffled in a slight breeze. This early, he apparently also forgot to dim down his eyes. They were too blue; too radiant, like opals being turned against the light. Andrew could almost see the air glowing around them.

There was a flicker on Neil’s lips. _A smile?_ “I’ve never had legs before, but something tells me I’d outrun you.”

Andrew stared Neil down. It didn’t exactly work. “There is nowhere for you to go but the Capitol. This is the last time I will tell you.”

He was fully aware that Neil wasn’t thinking of running. Andrew recognized the little storm on Neil’s face, when he thought no one was watching. It was the same look Nicky sometimes had when he thought about Erik, or Wymack when one of the Hunters was late to return. A fear that was completely selfless.

It didn’t make sense. _He has nothing to worry about but saving his own skin._

“You haven’t been very clear,” Neil said suddenly.

“About what?”

“Us.”

Andrew paused as he checked the daggers at his hip.  A coil of tension ran through his body. He considered drawing again—pressing the tip of the blade against Neil’s chest, just to make sure he was there. That what he’d said was real. “What are you talking about.”

Neil frowned. He opened his mouth; no sound came out, and then he tried again. “I mean, you haven’t told me why all of us—why Stars have to go to the Capitol.”

It was _that_ ‘us.’ Andrew itched at the reminder. _No other job could hold your attention. Why this one?_

“I did tell you.” Andrew shrugged his cloak on. The stone clasp at his neck felt just as cold as it always did. He ran his fingers over the surface, irritated.

“No. You told me that that people would kill Stars if the Capitol didn’t take them.”

“There’s your answer.”

“That’s not an answer,” Neil pressed. The first line of irritation appeared between his eyebrows; Andrew felt a tiny rise of triumph. Perhaps it was petty of him. He didn’t care. “Why would anyone kill a Star?”

“Because you’re shiny,” Andrew replied dismissively. The questioning wasn’t doing anything but giving him a headache. He didn’t care about the questions, and he didn’t want to answer anything else. He did want to _ask_. “What do you remember about your life before?”

Neil froze. His hand curled at his side; Andrew wondered if he would lie. There were two answers he owed Andrew, but he didn’t have to give them now.

Yet Neil looked up, the fine curve of his jaw silhouetted by the pink-orange sunrise. “Nothing good. Except maybe Jean.”

It should not have felt so intrusive to receive an answer. Andrew didn’t care; _I don’t care,_ he told himself, but it felt more like a lie than anything else he’d ever thought.

Even the truth wasn’t enough to stop Andrew from asking another question. It came to his tongue unbidden, and he didn’t have the time or thought to stop it. Not when he was traveling with a Star he didn’t know.

Not when Neil hadn’t taken the usual vial of medicine, yet.

“Did you ever look down on Earth?”

Neil glanced up from lacing his shirt. It hung loosely over his collarbone, and there was a faintly dimming glow above the skin there. There was a question on his face, floating in the bright blue depths of his eyes. A confusion. Neil hesitated as he began to answer, “Yes. Not closely, or often. But…sometimes.”

_Did you ever see me?_

It was a useless question that came to mind. Andrew hated it almost as much as he hated Neil’s response. What Stars did or saw didn’t matter.

The vial was at Andrew’s waist. He turned to find a cup for water in his pack and emptied a vial as he filled it. Something told him Neil would refuse the medicine, and if his confusion and spotty memory was anything to go by, Andrew didn’t trust that Neil wouldn’t be violent.

The problem wasn’t that Andrew couldn’t handle Neil. He knew he could. He just—

—didn’t _want_ to fight him. For some bizarre reason.

“Here.” Andrew passed the cup to Neil, then turned away to finish packing his things. “It’ll take a few days to reach the Capitol. We’ll have to stay outside the cities where we can, but there are lodgings for Hunters in some areas.”

“Don’t want to risk someone stealing me away from you?” Neil smiled sardonically. He tilted the cup to his lips and Andrew felt a distant desire to take it back.

 _Stupid._ It was Jeremy’s fault. The conversation at the cabin still infected Andrew’s mind, even buried far at the back of it. It was nothing but a conspiracy theory, anyway. The medicine was helpful. Aaron worked on it. There was no nefarious plot behind giving it to Stars. It helped hold them together, instead of waiting for them to shatter themselves with the pressure of being confined to a human body.

Even knowing that, Andrew still wanted Neil to hurry and finish. The medicine would take effect quickly, and they needed to make it to the next town over before the temporary haze rendered Neil useless.

A flock of birds suddenly came their way. They scattered and cawed, black bodies fluttering in the air as they passed overhead. Andrew watched them going—crows, they looked like.

Something about them gave Andrew the impression they were fleeing.

Neil stared at the birds. The cup in his hand was halfway to his mouth. A drop of water still rested on his bottom lip, as luminescent as the shining flecks in his eyes. “It’s him.”

Andrew’s first instinct was to question. Demand what it was Neil had brought down on them. He had to forcibly ignore the instinct and instead turn his attention to hiding. There was nothing nearby to shield them—no cave, no thicket of tress or foliage. It was a mostly-exposed plain that they stood on.

There was really only one option. “Run.”

It took about two minutes for Neil to outpace Andrew. Despite his joke, his legs seemed to suit him just fine. Neil leapt over patches of uneven ground and rocks as if he had done so for decades. He seemed to have perpetually steady footing; it was almost supernatural.

Andrew wasn’t particularly fast, but he had enough stamina to follow Neil toward the nearby city. They only just reached the gates when Andrew felt the earth rumble beneath his feet. “Here,” he commanded shortly, yanking Neil into an alley. “Stay quiet.”

He should have expected what he saw.

Tetsuji’s parade was just as macabre as always. The men in ragged black rode through the streets on their dark stallions, silent and unmoving. Tetsuji wore the same empty cloak he always did; it sucked up the light around it and seemed to eat at the very fabric of the universe. Things shrank away from him; people, plants, animals.

Well. People, when they saw him. Part of Tetsuji’s magic was walking unnoticed. Invisible. Shadow-stepping, some of the Hunters called it.

Only Hunters ever truly saw Tetsuji, and none of them had particularly cheery things to say about the man. He was the new Emperor, and he did things far differently than Kengo had. Many didn’t believe that was a good thing.

Neil’s breath caught in the air. Andrew could almost hear him shrink, as if he could make himself untouchable by pulling his body into a coiled ball. It shouldn’t have bothered him as much as it did.

Yet, it did.

There were only a few people in Kengo’s procession. They came and went swiftly, attuned to whatever business they were attending to. Andrew didn’t care; he was more intent on ensuring that Neil didn’t run.

That they made it to the next city, before the medicine took effect.

“Who was that?” Neil whispered. He leaned back against the wall behind him, but there was no weakness to his pose. Even his question wasn’t fearful. Instead of outright horror—a response most people had to Tetsuji—there was only a tense seriousness.

 _Survivor_. It was the only word Andrew could think of that described what Neil was. The way he held himself still and silent, one hand pressed to the wall as if he could rip a stone from it to throw at Tetsuji, if the man somehow turned back and found him.

There was a painful survival to him. Neil had fallen from high, and Andrew wasn’t sure how he was in one piece, if he even was. He certainly looked whole. _But what do I know? Not what a Star should look like._

_Not what one should be like._

“Tetsuji,” Andrew finally said. “Emperor. He is the one that rules from the Capitol.”

There it was again; a slight movement to Neil’s lips, as if he were about to sing a song stuck in his head. As if there was an answer on his tongue to some question Andrew had never asked.

Maybe he was insane. It was probably a good thing Andrew gave him the medicine.

Neil shook his head. “That—”

An explosion cut Neil’s reply short. Andrew hardly had time to feel annoyed by the interruption, and even more annoyed by the fact that it was the second explosion he’d encountered in two days. It was as if the entire country had decided to follow Neil around and blow things up.

Andrew honestly wouldn’t have bene surprised to discover he was right.

“Damn.” Andrew cursed as he ducked out of the alley; people were already beginning to scream and flood out of their houses. “Stay close.”

“Great. More of this,” Neil muttered, but he was right on Andrew’s heels.

The city was quickly descending into chaos. The explosion wasn’t easily identifiable, and it was harder to figure out what was happening as smaller cracks and rumbles echoed through the streets. There was debris flying overhead and rubble rolling underfoot. Andrew nearly missed a step as a rock skidded by his boot.

This wasn’t typical. Even the few times Andrew and the Stars he escorted were waylaid, the attackers were obvious. They came into the open and attacked in broad daylight. They were easy to fight back, and even easier to intimidate.

The explosions were different. There were no clear enemies; only the sounds of buildings being destroyed and civilians fleeing from the seemingly endless destruction.

Nothing was dangerous, though. The chaos was contained—even the explosions did little true damage. It was all walls and corners of stone crumbling and flying through the air. There was no intense structural damage.

_Whoever they are, they’re professional._

Something dark and heavy flew by far too close. Andrew skidded to a halt at the corner of a building, mouth drawn into a tight line. He could feel dust tickling his lungs. He turned to Neil—

—and realized the Star was three feet behind him.

Andrew immediately knew what was wrong. He could see the light in Neil’s eyes dimming, a distant confusion swimming over his features. _Fuck. Now?_

“Come on,” Andrew muttered, ducking past flying stones to reach Neil. “Let’s go,” he said, louder. “You—”

“You did something,” Neil breathed. His eyes swam in and out of focus, but they latched onto Andrew’s face. He was more aware than Andrew anticipated, and Neil staggered backward with purpose. “You did something to me. You—”

Another explosion rocked the city. Andrew ducked just as stone flew past his shoulder. Something hit Neil; he saw the impact and the jerk of Neil’s shoulder. He thought he could see blood, and a tear in Neil’s shirt. “We don’t have time for this,” he said, voice rising over the chaos. “Later. Now—”

Neil shook his head. He blinked forcefully, as if he could will himself to consciousness. “No. No, you did something to me.”

Those words should not have mattered. They should not have; they didn’t, Andrew told himself, but that was lie. _They matter._ It mattered, and Andrew wondered if Neil had trusted him before. If this incident broke something. _Why does it matter?_ Neil clung to the wall of a nearby house, his knuckles white and the glow ebbing. He was breathing so harshly Andrew could hear him.

This was wrong. It was all wrong; the medicine shouldn’t have worked already. It shouldn’t have taken effect, and if it did, Neil should have been out cold. _He shouldn’t even be conscious._

_Is he fighting it?_

It was impossible. There was no tolerance to the medicine. It was designed to tether Stars to their bodies; to ensure they could _feel_ the boundaries of their human shells. The medicine was meant to keep them grounded and sane, where otherwise they would descend into horror and madness.

“He told me not to trust you,” Neil whispered. It was seven words; a sentence of no consequence, but it chilled Andrew to the bone. This far, he could see the dimness in Neil’s eyes. He could see their true color, a sharp blue that looked like fresh water and dizzy summer skies. Even without the shining from within, they were beautiful.

_What?_

Andrew didn’t have time for the conversation. There were voices drawing nearer. “We need to go. _Now._ ”

Neil staggered backward again. He was moving away, and Andrew could do nothing to ease the wound between them. He had no choice but to pull Neil along, or risk losing him to some danger he didn’t fully understand.

Something about this job was different from all the others, and different meant dangerous.

There was no time to act. The thundering of footsteps came closer and Andrew slid his daggers from their sheaths. “Move,” he commanded, jerking his chin to the side. “Stay back.”

Neil didn’t listen; of course, he didn’t. He stayed huddled against the wall as a dirtied band of men rounded the corner. One glance told Andrew the newcomers weren’t Fishermen, or even Farmers. They were not common people, banding together to capture a Star and make a fortune.

These people were an entirely different breed of dangerous. Their faces were smeared with dirt and black paint. Andrew could see bruises and scars on every inch of exposed skin. These people were scrappers; fighters, with one eye on anything valuable and the other on anyone they could fight.

Jackals. They had a particular grudge against Hunters. Against the Foxes, from Wymack’s branch. These people were exactly what Nicky and Aaron would have to become, if Andrew didn’t make enough to buy their freedom and stability. The Jackals were scavengers. Predators of chance. They would gnaw down to the bone wherever they roamed.

They had a particular thirst for Stars. After all, the Jackals used to be Hunters. They more than anyone knew the true price of a good Star.

“Oh, good.” There was a young man at the front of the group, his teeth bared in an unpleasant smile. He was a familiar face, but Andrew didn’t care enough to remember his name. Even if he couldn’t forget. “It looks like Minyard did our work for us. We should thank him.”

Andrew didn’t bother with a reply. He didn’t particularly care to give one, and there was no point. He had somewhere to be. He needed to explain to Neil what the medicine was; maybe figure out why Neil was reacting so differently to it.

Andrew had a hundred things he wanted to do, and none of them involved the Jackals.

There were five people in the street. Andrew could hear others nearby, but there was no pressure for them to join the fight. It was already an unfair fight.

Or at least, that’s probably what the Jackals thought.

Two people came at Andrew. He wasn’t particularly worried about beating them back, but they weren’t his primary concern. He had one eye on Neil, who was stumbling away from the fight and toward the gates behind Andrew.

 _Stop, idiot._ Andrew fought the desire to yell at him; the Jackals were distracted, and if he was lucky, they wouldn’t notice Neil’s retreat until it was too late. Until Andrew could disengage and take the unruly Star somewhere far away.

Maybe drill some common sense into his stupid head.

The plan was discarded before Andrew could even move back. He heard laughter and then a half-groan of pain. It was foolish to look away, but—

—Andrew did. He looked away, and toward Neil.

Neil was doubled over, eyes wide with bitten-back pain. Someone’s arm was wrapped around his middle. His teeth were gritted against whatever noise threatened to escape his mouth.

 _Don’t touch him._ There was something in the way Neil curled into himself; something in the way his eyes squeezed shut for a moment. There was a familiarity to Neil’s recoil, and all Andrew could think was _don’t touch him._

Neil fought. Andrew watched him pull at the arm around his waist. He watched Neil sway, the medicine still clouding his mind even as he fought to escape his captors. The Jackals laughed, unworried by his attempts. A kick to their legs fell short, hindered by the nausea and dizziness Neil was probably experiencing.

It was disgusting to watch. It was even worse to realize that Neil could have fought, if he wasn’t drugged.

 _Drugged._ _Not a medicine. A drug._

Andrew felt his mouth fall open. Heard one word, “Stop—"

But it was too late. Neil was thrown onto the back of a horse and then Andrew saw him disappear, the Jackals still laughing joyously at their catch.

He was angry.

Angrier than he expected to be. _Lost time,_ he told himself, but even in a frenzy, he didn’t believe it. Andrew sliced his way through the two Jackals at his side. The other three hesitated just enough. All the anger and conflict and pent-up frustration flew through Andrew’s blades as he cut them down, but all he could see was Neil’s face. The betrayal when he had begun to stagger, and the defiance when he was being restrained.

All Andrew could hear was Neil promising and Neil answering questions. Neil whispering to Jean, determined, a hand curled into a stolen shirt.

Maybe he didn’t trust Neil. Andrew trusted what he saw, though, and he had seen enough to know what Neil would fight for. He’d seen enough to know exactly what kind of dangerous Neil was.

Neil was the stupid kind of dangerous. Andrew knew how to handle that. Maybe it was annoying as hell, but at least he understood it. After all, he’d looked after Kevin for so long.

The Jackals were done. Andrew stepped around their groaning forms and toward the nearby gates, already calculating how many days he would lose chasing back after Neil.

He wondered if Nicky and Jean would run into him. He wondered what Nicky would think of Andrew losing Neil—of Andrew waiting so long to give Neil his dose.

Andrew wondered what Jean would think, and just how much of an enemy he would make.

One of the Jackals tried to lever themselves upright. Andrew turned and pressed into the man’s chest with his foot. He listened to the man wheeze and collapse, glaring up at Andrew from the ground. “What do you want?” he spit.

“I want nothing.” Andrew nudged the man with his foot, contemplating. “Tell me where you’re taking him.”

The man laughed shortly. Andrew dug his heel in and listened to the noise of pain that escaped the man. Felt the shudder wrack his frame. “Fine— _fine!_ They…we were going to take him to a secure point.”

“Someone hired you.”

“Yes.”

Disturbing. The Jackals didn’t work for anyone. They were desperate to save themselves; you wouldn’t make a deal with them if you were blind and deaf. _So, who did?_

“Explain.” Andrew pressed again. The man scrambled to push at his foot, a hiss escaping through his teeth.

“ _Fuck_ —I don’t know. I don’t,” he repeated, more earnest, as Andrew pushed. “They didn’t tell anyone! We’re not fucking important enough for that.”

 _They._ Andrew wondered who claimed to be in charge of the Jackals. They were a messy, disorganized bunch. Half of them hated authority and the other half resented what they couldn’t have. No doubt someone tried to enforce their will on the group by claiming they knew better.

It didn’t matter anyway. Andrew reached down to check the man for weapons and money. He didn’t need to take any, but he did want to know what he was turning his back on. It was better to anticipate a knife in the back than to be surprised when it hit you.

“If you’re smart, you’ll stay out of my way.” Andrew removed his foot. “Now, and forever.”

He didn’t have any more time to waste. He needed a horse, and he needed to catch up to Neil. Andrew threw his cloak over his shoulder as he went, the fabric rustling as he walked.

_This really is the worst job I’ve ever had._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> boy howdy has it been a minute  
> i am 5 days from rent and like $300 short, so if i die you know why


	7. Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neil knows nothing, and he is in the custody of people he doesn't know. Even as he thinks back to Andrew's decision, he can't tell whether it's Andrew he can't trust, or the Capitol.  
> Neil is lost. Only an hour after he is taken, he is found.

His head swam. The throbbing was faint but persistent, and he thought the pain might be what a headache felt like.

Neil imagined he was experiencing many things for the first time. He couldn’t say this was a good experience.

The only remotely positive thing about his current experience was the horse he was thrown on. The animal was large—disquietingly so—but it seemed to have no issue with Neil being tossed onto its back. Its coat was a shiny black, the glossy sheen to it a stark contrast to the men surrounding Neil.

The men weren’t Hunters; that was the only thing Neil knew about them. They cackled raucously, teeth bared in the fiery midday sun. It was hot as the giant star made its way to the height of the sky. Neil guessed there were probably still five hours until it set.

_He drugged me._

The thought returned at about the same time the nausea did. Neil had already thrown up once and found that he did not enjoy the sensation. It reminded him of his father ripping light from him and devouring the energy. It reminded him of soundless screams and endless whispers.

Neil did not like drugs, and he decided he didn’t like Andrew’s methods, either.

He understood them, though. It was simple enough for Neil to puzzle out that the vials he’d seen on Andrew’s waist were like the ones Nicky had worn, too. Even a glimpse of them told Neil they were some sort of standard issue, and he had a distinct feeling they were from the Capitol.

So, the Capitol was drugging Stars. _I guess it’s a good thing I never finished my water, this morning._ If he had, Neil suspected he wouldn’t be coherent.

“Wasn’t there supposed to be another?” One of the men riding alongside Neil frowned, scratching his head of tangled, dark brown hair. His horse’s tail swished sedately, shiny and immaculate.

One of the other riders rolled their eyes. “Who cares? We didn’t find it. Anyway, we only need the one.”

Neil tested the ropes at his wrists. He had been tied before they threw him into the saddle, and he was only allowed enough leverage to hold on. Not that it made much of a difference; Neil had never ridden before. He was off-balance without the added struggle of having his hands tied.

_I wonder if I could break them. Or burn them._

He probably could, but Neil also suspected that escape wouldn’t be so easy. Perhaps this was just a trick. Maybe they even had the same drugs Andrew had, and they’d only failed to use them because they thought Neil was already incapacitated.

The nausea was receding. Just as it did, however, a new problem began to appear.

Riko.

_“I told you not to trust him.”_

Neil closed his eyes, just for a moment, so he wouldn’t have to see. He mumbled under his breath, “I already told myself the same thing.”

When he opened his eyes, Neil found Riko hovering next to him. He didn’t walk, exactly, or even float. He just _was_ , skimming along the ground alongside Neil’s horse.

Riko looked the same as when Neil used to look down from the sky. He looked just as pale, just as sharp, and just as tragic.

He was just as much of a pain in the ass.

Riko’s eyes slid toward Neil. He didn’t seem angry, or even frustrated. There was a tired emptiness to his gaze. _“I don’t know why I tried.”_

“It’s you, isn’t it? The shard.” Neil felt it digging into the edge of his sleeve, cold and hard. Riko didn’t answer, but Neil already knew the truth. “You shouldn’t be…”

_“Alive? I don’t think you can call it that.”_

And there— _there_ is the one Neil remembers; the Riko with a wicked smirk and snappy line. The one pushed and pushed until he broke, only it was unlike anything Neil had ever known.

Riko wasn’t a Star. He died a human, with a hole in his head and red blood painted across the wall behind him.

Or so Neil had thought.

“I don’t know what this means,” Neil confessed quietly. It didn’t make sense. Stars weren’t like humans. Their human bodies could break, but it took much more force. If their bodies were killed, the Star would still exist—and they would hide away in rock and crystal, precious stones worth more than the danger of trying to kill them in the first place.

Riko was not a Star. He wasn’t. Neil had watched him in snatches; had been forced to look, _see, Nathaniel? If you run from me, you run to them. You won’t survive._ Riko was human. He was supposed to be human; he was supposed to be the perfect example of their failings.

 _“I didn’t, either,”_ Riko whispered. Neil fought the desire to close his eyes again; a shudder rolled up his spine. He only looked at Riko to confirm what he feared—the flower reappearing, a bloody red painted on his forehead. _“But you don’t have the luxury of taking your time to figure it out.”_

 _Tell me,_ Neil wanted to say. He wanted to demand the answer, despite all the horror it probably carried. He wanted to reach out and _feel_ —know if Riko was real, or if even his ghost was nothing but a flicker of wind and cloud.

He couldn’t. Riko faded as blood dripped over his face, thick on the pale skin of his cheeks. He disappeared just as he had materialized, in wisps of pale, colorless cobwebs.

Neil curled his hands around the ropes at his wrists. _I don’t know if I want to know, but I don’t have a choice._

_I never had one._

☆

It took an hour for Neil to feel like his head was clear again.

He drifted as he rode; the caravan wasn’t in a hurry, and somehow, the steady pace of the horse only served as an oddly hypnotic lullaby. Neil counted hoof-beats against soft grass until he was fighting sleep. The world would disappear in snatches, only for him to force his eyes open.

He could hear snatches of conversation. Words about the Capitol, and something about a machine. Someone said _energy_ , and another said _drain_. Neil didn’t like what he heard, but he could not ask. He could only file away the conversations and try to remember as he drifted.

Neil could not risk sleep. Not when he was surrounded.

The caravan slowed. Neil guessed it was for food; the laughter and camaraderie was broken by occasional grumbling and weary sighs. He kept his head down and blinked slowly. Whatever plans they had for him, he suspected they centered around him being weak. The second one of them noticed he was aware and capable, there was no telling what would happen.

“Move him,” someone barked. Amid the shuffle of bodies and loud conversations, Neil found himself pulled from his horse. He curled into himself but didn’t fight the person that hauled him over to a tree. The rope that tied his wrists together was looped around the tree, and Neil managed to slouch far enough to peer just over his bent knees at the people before him.

Riko stood by Neil. _“Do you think they’ll hurt you?”_

“I think I am always hurt,” Neil said quietly. “Why should this be any different?”

So he said, but he saw little danger in the people that were shoving each other and snickering. Neil knew what danger looked like. What it felt like. He knew what danger was in humans; he’d seen enough of it from above. He held himself, as much as he could without form, and let the holes ripped in his matter re-form around the wounds while humans below bickered and laughed.

Neil smiled to himself. “Do you know? I never liked you.”

_“No one did.”_

“No. I think someone did.” Neil rested his head against the tree behind him and closed his eyes. “There’s always someone. Your—”

The clink of metal shook near Neil’s feet. He cracked his eyelids open just enough to see the man before him; an imposing figure, with a dissatisfied mouth and hard eyes. He seemed young, but he was so massive Neil wondered what he was like as a child. If he would become larger still.

“It’s hallucinating,” the man said. He kicked at Neil’s shin with his boot. It was heavier than Neil expected, but he made no noise. It was simple practice for him to stay silent, despite the radiating sting.

Bruises would be another first, Neil thought. He figured he’d hate them just as much as everything else.

Someone else approached. A woman with harsh scars on her shoulders, her hair yanked back from her face in a tangled ponytail. “Whatever. Leave it alone. You have half an hour to eat.”

“Why don’t we break it before we get there?” The man frowned. He kicked again, this time harder. “There’s no point in dragging it along on a horse. We could be using the space for something useful.”

“Like what? You can’t even make scrap on a good day,” the woman retorted. She slammed her fist against the man’s chest and his mouth tightened to a thin line. “You just steal your quota from someone else.”

“So? I still bring it in.” The man’s jaw was tight. It clenched; Neil tensed on the ground. He hated being prone. He hated not having the chance to skirt away—to avoid the fight he saw coming.

The woman turned fully to face the man. Neil could see a jagged scar on her left cheek; it broke across her eye, though there seemed to be no damage. “You know your place,” she said darkly. “Remember it, or you will be reminded.”

The rest of the camp was listening. Watching. Neil could tell; even as the motion and conversations continued, voices lowered, and eyes stole glances at the pair by the tree. Neil wanted nothing more than to move away. To withdraw from the angry energy before him.

It was going to end. It should have ended; Neil saw the woman turn away and the man clench his fists, as if this had happened before. The entire scene was just a retread of something that had happened before.

But it didn’t end. A dagger flew from nowhere, and it sliced the woman’s back before burying itself between Neil’s feet.

There was only a second of realization before Neil jerked the dagger out of the ground and toward his body. The woman turned, rage contorting her scarred features. Her angry roar exploded at the same time she hit the man behind her.

 _“Quickly,”_ Riko whispered. _“Quickly.”_

“You’re not helping,” Neil hissed. He struggled to contort his body and pass the dagger toward his hands. As he worked, the fight moved toward the rest of the caravan. People shouted and cheered.

Someone was approaching Neil. He tore free of his bindings just as they appeared. Neil swiped the man’s feet from under him and darted for the horses. He could hear shouts of alarm echoing behind him, but they were caught in the ruckus of the fight.

Someone grunted behind Neil. He watched the woman fall to the ground, a dagger buried in her shoulder. It matched the one in his hand.

Neil stopped short. He reached out before he could think of what he was doing, and then the twin dagger was in his hand as he yanked it from the woman’s shoulder. She grunted in pain and wildly grasped for his ankle, but he danced out of the way.

Riko’s voice came again, a desperate edge invading his prayer. _“Quickly. Now.”_

Neil sprinted the final distance to the horses. He did not look to see who followed, or what was happening. He only threw himself onto the horse he had ridden before and urged it forward. He did not know what to do or say, but the horse seemed to sense his intentions. It lurched forward, breaking into a full gallop before Neil could think to hold tight.

There was a whistling noise in the air. Neil turned, despite himself, and grunted in pain as something cut his cheek. The burning pain was almost as surprising as the figure he saw just beyond him on the hill.

Andrew.

 _“Don’t,”_ Riko said immediately. “ _Don’t—stop.”_

Too late.

Neil barely reigned the horse in as he reached Andrew. He was astride a ghostly white horse, and its black eyes surveyed Neil with patient recognition. Andrew’s pale hair was a windswept mess, but he appeared unruffled. His left arm was raised, and he held an arrow in his gloved hand. “I think you missed this.”

“Not quite,” Neil replied drily. He could feel the heat of blood on his cheek. “Perhaps we could save this conversation for later. When I’m not being chased.”

Andrew leveled an unworried look at Neil. “It will be easier to kill them if they are closer.”

Neil wanted to disappear. He wanted to become nothing, or at least somehow transport himself miles away. “Could we leave?” he asked, strained. “P—”

“What they did is unforgivable,” Andrew interrupted. The tension in his voice was almost unnoticeable, but to Neil, it was deafening. He wondered what it was about Neil’s question that had been so undesirable to Andrew.

“But what you did was not?”

He hadn’t meant to say it. Neil was truly more concerned with distancing himself from the caravan than revisiting Andrew’s decision to drug him.

Having a human mouth was hard to contend with, Neil decided. He could blame it on the indistinction he was developing when it came to his thoughts and words.

Andrew turned to look at Neil. The hard angles of his face were just the same as Neil remembered, but there was a curious softness to his face that Neil had not seen before. Andrew’s features were fine, in a sense. Almost delicate, though Neil would never use the word aloud. Even the pale fan of Andrew’s lashes was in stark contrast to the black depths of his eyes.

The green rings in Andrew’s eyes seemed to flicker. Neil could feel a frown tugging at his lips.

He wanted to ask, but he wanted to escape more. Neil extended his hand—and the two daggers, clinking slightly. “I think you missed these.”

“Not quite.” But Andrew took them all the same, his leather gloves creaking as his grip tightened. He looked toward the caravan, a harsh edge to his mouth before he finally gave in. “Let’s go.”

☆

No matter how Neil looked at it, he couldn’t find a reason for Andrew to come back. Not the way he did, at least.

It would have made sense to wait. Perhaps even contact Nicky, who would have been closer and already ahead of the caravan. Anything would have made more sense than for Andrew to apparently acquire a horse and dash ahead of the traveling caravan, just to snatch Neil back.

Neil had considered reputation and pride, but neither seemed important to Andrew. His clothing wasn’t ornamental, and he bore no distinguishing marks other than the stone clasp at his throat. Without the odd ring and blackness of his eyes, Andrew could have been just anyone on the streets.

Well. Almost. Neil doubted many common people were as sturdily built as Andrew.

 _He said what they did was unforgivable._ Neil still couldn’t wrap his head around the meaning. He couldn’t think of what part of the kidnapping was wrong to Andrew.

He considered maybe it was tying him up. He wasn’t sure what to think about that.

 _“You are giving him too much credit,”_ Riko said. He stood by Neil; Andrew had brought them back to where they had been separated, up to an empty field beyond the city. They were still mounted, but the sun was low in the sky and it would be dark soon. _“What do you think he did this for? Not you.”_

Neil exhaled through his nose. “Quiet.”

Andrew glanced at Neil. “For now.” He dismounted easily, though Neil half-expected him to fall the distance to the ground. “We’ll stay here for the night.”

Riko hovered while Neil dismounted. His horse was between him and Andrew; it gave him a moment to think. A moment not to wonder about the pale figure on a white horse. _“You know what they said.”_

Draining Stars. Neil shivered, his hand still on the horse’s body. It felt comforting, somehow.

He could not hide forever. Neil skirted around the horse and found Andrew preparing to build a fire. He moved the same way he had before, the first time they had spent a night alone together. Purposeful. Aware.

Tense.

_What?_

Neil sank to the ground. He wondered if it was projection, or the drugs, or his imagination—but he could see it. He saw when Andrew abruptly stopped gathering branches and dropped to his knees, assembling a fire while Neil watched.

The question left Neil’s lips before he could stop it. “Are you afraid of me?”

Andrew stopped. Completely stopped, his hands frozen over a cracked, thin branch. His voice was heavy when he asked, “What?”

He shouldn’t say more. Neil told himself to stop, but he asked again. “Are you afraid of me?”

“No.” Andrew’s eyes flickered as they turned on Neil. He sounded… _angry? No. Something else._ “You are not intimidating.”

“That doesn’t mean anything.”

Andrew’s mouth pulled into a thin line. “No,” he agreed. He suddenly began to work again. “I’m not.”

 _Then why?_ Neil dug his fingers into the dirt. It was a bad idea to push, but still he wanted to know. Still, he wanted to understand.

He still didn’t know why the hell Andrew was angry at the caravan.

“I have a question,” Neil began. He felt dirt pack under his nails; it was almost wet. Oddly soft. “What is it you gave me?”

Andrew stilled again. This time, harsher. He snapped the fire to life; Neil couldn’t see his hands from across the other side. He only saw Andrew withdraw, and the paleness to his fingertips.

“I didn’t give it to you,” he said slowly.

“But I took it.”

Again, there was a deliberateness to the way Andrew held himself still. “The Capitol provides it to Hunters. It is for Stars, to acclimate them.”

“To what? Our bodies are human,” Neil replied, but his mouth pulled into a frown. He guessed even as Andrew began to answer.

“You aren’t meant for your bodies. Stars are…stuff,” Andrew ground out, his hand waving vaguely toward the sky. “It’s not the same.”

“Stuff,” Neil echoed, his lips twitching. “Poetic.”

Andrew shot him an unimpressed stare. It wasn’t dangerous at all. Neil—

—could almost feel a smile. It twisted something inside him; made a knot of his answer. He didn’t know what to think.

“Did you know what it did?”

“It’s not supposed to do that.” Andrew said shortly. He withdrew his daggers; cleaned them, as Neil watched. The fire flickered on the reflective metal, orange-red and hungry. “It typically works after ten hours. Enough time to travel and find shelter again. When you sleep, it works. It’s supposed to be unnoticeable.”

“Sounds comforting.” Neil stared across the fire. Andrew didn’t answer; his eyes rested on his daggers.

Perhaps Andrew hadn’t anticipated what happened. _But does it even matter?_ Neil didn’t know. He had no clue who to trust or what to think. He wasn’t sure if Andrew was lying, or if he was lied to. He didn’t even know if Andrew believed in what he was doing.

 _I hope Jean is safe._ Neil curled his fist into the grass. Nicky had seemed kind. Perhaps Jean was fine, and he hadn’t been given the drug yet because of his concussion. Maybe Jean was safe in a cabin, surrounded by flowers and warmth and the good things he deserved.

Andrew broke the silence. When he spoke, there was a grinding disease to his words. “Did they do anything to you?”

“No,” Neil replied, surprised. “They didn’t seem dangerous.”

“You are stupid, then.” The dagger in Andrew’s hand moved too fast, and then—

—copper. Blood, thick in the air as Andrew sliced his palm. Neil blinked.

Before he could think, Neil crossed the short distance between them. He crawled across the dirt and reached out, heart in his throat, pulse thundering in his ears.

Andrew was coiled. His eyes were flat, and Neil found himself speaking. “Let me?”

He did not expect an answer. He prepared for a slap, or a boot to his chest. The dagger on his skin, warning.

Instead, Andrew’s eyes slid to his hand. The red splash forming. “Yes.”

Neil lifted his hands. He could feel Andrew’s blood drip against him, hot and thin. There were a hundred warnings in his head—voices saying that this would only end badly.

One of them sounded like Riko.

“Stop,” Neil whispered, before he could keep the word from escaping. He was scared—

—was terrified, somehow, of touching. Of being _wrong_ , and Andrew shoving him away. But Neil closed his hands around Andrew’s and found the skin there cool; a little colder than he expected. He tentatively lowered his fingers to the cut.

There was an ache in Neil’s chest. _Don’t move. Don’t run…_ He wondered what his scars would look like, to Andrew. Wondered if Andrew had some as well.

_Are there any of us without scars?_

Every Star fell. Neil only hoped no one would be cut by his shards.

Something happened. He could feel it, in his fingertips and palms. A warmth—a life, rising to his skin. The glow was him, he realized; Star stuff, like Andrew said. It flickered and bounced in glittery gold and somehow, it left him. It seemed to escape into Andrew, as if it needed warmth. A body. The light moved, and Neil could see it pulsing under Andrew’s skin.

Neil could see the cut disappear, but it didn’t pull itself together. It only shrank as new skin seemed to reach from the sides of the wound, joining in the middle like clasped hands.

It stopped as soon as it had begun. The light was gone, and Neil was left with a bloodstained hand and the dizziness of whatever it was he had done.

_I did that. Me._

“I’m—tired,” Neil realized, and then his eyes shut, and he fell into darkness.

The last thing he remembered was wondering if he would fall into Andrew’s arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hmm i wonder what andrew's gonna think


	8. Reluctance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Neil's healing magic is unsettling, Andrew can't help but question just what Stars are capable of. As they approach the Capitol, a familiar face is suddenly just as familiar to Neil.  
> Andrew has more pressing matters to consider—like what the truth is, and how he will deal with the lies he may have been told.

Neil fell.

Andrew could see Neil’s blue eyes dim, almost to human—the color of a lake, clear and cold. The blue slivers of his eyes disappeared as they shut, and then Andrew watched Neil collapse. It was soft; Neil’s hands slipped from Andrew’s, warm and light, and then Neil fell.

He fell into Andrew.

For some reason, Andrew didn’t shift away. Neil’s hair tickled his cheek as his head bumped Andrew’s shoulder. It was a peculiar weight, and unfamiliar.

Andrew’s immediate thought was, _he’s dead._

_He’s dead and I killed him._

Except the whisper of Neil’s breath against his neck was certain, and it sent a shiver up Andrew’s skin. He wondered why he had not shoved Neil off yet, and then he wondered why Neil was so warm. He felt like a heated blanket, or a hot spring. Like Renee’s hot chocolate in a heavy mug.

That was enough. Andrew’s hands inched toward Neil’s shoulders and he levered the Star off and toward the ground. Neil’s cloak was already laid out, rumpled and dirty from the kidnapping.

_But what you did was not?_

Neil was out cold, but Andrew could still hear his voice. He turned away quickly and ignored the voice whispering in his ear to look back. It could go to hell.

 _He shouldn’t be here._ The thought nagged at him. Andrew snapped a branch in his hand; frayed ends of wood poked at his hand. His palm, which looked perfectly intact and unmarred by the knife that had sliced into it. _Neil did that._

It was stupid. Risky. If something happened, Neil would be unconscious, and Andrew would have to handle things himself. Neil was stupid.

Andrew realized he was tracing a line over his palm.

“Enough,” he said, although he wasn’t sure whether it was directed at Neil or himself. He slid his fingers over the stone at his throat to undo the clasp.

It always felt like a heart. Like something alive, with a heartbeat so faint it was nearly unnoticeable. Andrew curled his fingers around the stone and threw his cloak onto the ground.

He would not sleep well, if at all. But he would not sit and stare at Neil. He had better things to do.

☆

Andrew had given up any pretense of not looking. It was simpler this way—

—simpler to stand by his horse, Neptune, and watch as Neil woke.

Andrew had wondered if Neil wouldn’t wake.

The sun seemed to love Neil. It made strands of his red hair turn a bright gold; it cast warmth over his already-bronzed skin. The light even seemed to enjoy lingering over his nose. His lips—

—Neil groaned, softly, under his breath. Andrew’s hand curled against Neptune’s side. He wanted to look away.

Somehow, he couldn’t.

Neil opened his mouth, and—

—a string of indecipherable noises poured out.

Andrew froze.

It sounded almost like bells, or chiming glass. Something about the noise passed through Andrew; into him, like vibrations humming in his bones.

It felt like life.

Neil’s eyes landed on Andrew. There was a flicker of hesitancy in their blueness, and Neil’s brow furrowed. His mouth moved, but what came out wasn’t language. Not one Andrew understood.

“You’re not—I don’t understand you,” Andrew corrected. He could barely grind the words out.

Neil paused. Stopped, with his mouth half-open and realization on his features. When he finally spoke again, a strange wave of pain crossed his features. “I—feel sick.”

That was it. Neil stumbled away from their camp until he hit his knees, heaving in the grass. His body shook, and Andrew could hear Neil fighting it. Fighting the certain ache of his human form rebelling against whatever it was he’d done just the night before.

He should not care. He did not care—

—yet Andrew walked to him, water in hand. He stood far enough to the side that Neil would see him and waited.

“Drink.”

Neil panted. His hand shook just a little when he reached out. Andrew considered Neil, a thought running through his mind. _This happened because of what he did._

“You shouldn’t have done that.” It was the truth. Andrew watched Neil drink; wondered if the Star was even listening.

Neil shook his head. Returned the water to Andrew, a sigh escaping his lips. “I didn’t know I could. But…”

“But?”

“It makes sense.”

Energy. _Power,_ Andrew corrected himself. There was a difference. “We need to start moving,” he said, instead of everything else that came to mind. “We’re a day behind.”

Neil glanced at Andrew. Ran a hand over his mouth. “You don’t want to know?”

“I already do.” He knew that Stars were energy. That much was obvious—was simple. They were light, and light was energy. They burned with heat and power, and that meant they could heal themselves faster. Their power fueled their human bodies; knit skin together that would otherwise take a week to repair for an average person.

Stars were the closest thing to immortal that there was. Even if their human bodies were destroyed, they could still live.

They were nothing but light, after all.

Andrew rose. “We need to go. Unless you’d rather wait and be caught again?”

Neil didn’t immediately answer. He was still looking at the ground. Or rather, his eyes were fixed on the ground. He wasn’t seeing it.

He was elsewhere.

“Quickly,” Andrew said.

Just as he turned, he saw an empty smile on Neil’s lips. “Quickly.”

☆

The cities were more crowded as they approached the Capitol, and harder to avoid. This was the most aggravating part of the journey.

People meant staring, and staring meant danger.

Neil pulled his cloak tighter as Andrew led them toward the Hunters’ lodge. There was one in most major cities; it made traveling easier for Hunters and allowed them to move quickly when a Star fell. Andrew didn’t care for the lodges all that much. He didn’t need a bed. Just some place out of sight.

“How far are we?”

Neil still looked distant. Something about that aggravated Andrew; made him want to snap his fingers before Neil’s eyes and remind him where he was. The danger he was in, if he didn’t pay attention.

Andrew led Neptune down a side street, away from the bulk of the morning crowd. “Not far.”

Capitol or lodge, it was the truth. Andrew ran a finger over the hilt of one of his daggers as he walked. The vials at his belt radiated a crackling energy; he could feel it like magic on his skin.

He’d always hated the feeling of the vials. Now, he knew why.

The door to the lodge swung open just as Andrew approached. The smell of cider and meat floated out, and with it—

— “Kevin.” It was a breath; an almost-weightless gasp that made Andrew stop in his tracks.

It made Kevin stop, too.

Neil stared. More than stared—he seemed _changed._ He looked almost like he did when he was with Jean. There was a familiar strain in his expression, as if he were reaching out to something just beyond his fingertips. As if he were perched on the edge of a gaping chasm and reaching his hand out to someone so heavy they might pull him down.

Neil looked like he didn’t care how far he fell, if it took him closer to the one person he was staring at.

The thing about it was, Kevin looked back.

Kevin didn’t _care_ about other Stars. About other people or things. He had his work and his beliefs, and they were all that mattered to him. Besides Jeremy.

Jeremy didn’t count. No one was immune to Jeremy. Or Renee.

Yet Kevin was staring at Neil as if he _wanted_ something. Like Neil had the answer to something that Kevin desperately wanted to know.

There was fear in Neil’s eyes. A soft, hurt wonder. He stared at Kevin and his hands were extended almost subconsciously, but he stopped short of touching. Held himself still, like he thought Kevin would run away if he moved too fast.

Neil’s voice shook when he spoke again. “Kevin?” He swallowed. His fingers twitched. “Do…you…”

 _Do you remember me?_ The question went unasked. Andrew hated every unspoken syllable.

There was a line between Kevin’s brows. A familiar wrinkle, while he struggled to verbalize something Andrew could see playing out across his features. Kevin inhaled, his mouth half-open and a question on his tongue. He struggled as if every letter was a boulder he had to carry.

Finally— _finally,_ Kevin said, “Neil?”

Watching things fall into place—watching Neil fall into Kevin’s arms—was strange. Andrew felt a thousand miles away, in some deep, cold waters. He felt like an intruder. This wasn’t for him; not the way Kevin’s hands curled into Neil’s shirt, or the way Neil sagged against Kevin. Andrew could see just how deep the tension had run through Neil, and just how much he was willing to let go while Kevin held him.

“How—what is this?” Kevin mumbled. There was a drop of fear in his eyes. An uncertain, creeping thought. “I just…”

“You know me,” Neil insisted. He pulled back only enough to see Kevin’s face. They made an absurd pair, Andrew thought, with Kevin towering over Neil. Just like with Jean.

Except things were different. It seemed like Neil was the one asking for support—

—and even stranger, Kevin gave it.

Kevin didn’t protect people. He didn’t hold himself up between the world and another person. That was Andrew’s job, and what Andrew did for him. It felt almost wrong to see Kevin steadying Neil, with his hair ruffled and his crisp cloak flung to the side to accommodate the smaller Star.

“I know you,” Kevin agreed. His hands tightened. “I don’t know how I know you.”

Andrew watched Neil’s eyes shut. He wondered why he hated the small death that passed over Neil’s face—the release of some tiny parcel of joy. The reminder that even if Neil felt safe or relieved, he could not expect as much from Kevin. He could not reminisce, and he could not find the comfort he had probably hoped to find. Neil was alone in his experience, and he was the only one that remembered.

It should not have mattered to Andrew, but it did. Perhaps because he remembered everything, too.

Andrew gave up on silence. It was too late not to say something, and Kevin and Neil were caught in the silence of revelation. “I shouldn’t be surprised,” he said. “You are both fools. You would know one another.”

“A fool,” Neil echoed, his voice a distant murmur. “But one I admire.”

Whatever it was Neil wasn’t saying, Andrew didn’t care to hear. He did not care that Neil and Kevin knew one another. Their sky was not important. What mattered was the earth and the task before them now.

“Inside,” Andrew directed. He waved Neil ahead. “I need to speak with someone.”

Kevin hesitated. He had been about to do something; Andrew could tell from the proper attire Kevin wore and the lack of supplies he typically carried on assignments. Whatever he had meant to do, however, it seemed inconsequential now. Kevin abandoned all pretense of leaving and turned on his heel to follow Andrew and Neil inside.

Abby was inside. She stood at the bar, a cloth in hand as she wiped down the counter. Her questioning gaze lifted to Kevin, first. When she found Andrew, a wariness entered her expression. “On a job?”

“I was,” Andrew replied shortly. “It’s become more of a hassle.”

Abby was already reaching for an empty glass. She seemed to notice the strange atmosphere between Neil and Kevin; her gaze returned to them as she made Andrew’s drink.

Andrew downed half his drink and waited for the inevitable questions.

Abby tapped her fingers against the counter. “So. This is your newest…”

“Escort job,” Neil mumbled. Andrew slammed his glass down a little too hard.

“What’s your name?” Abby asked, tentatively friendly.

“Neil.”

Kevin was chewing at his bottom lip. He walked around the counter—Kevin always made his drinks too strong and didn’t like anyone else making them for him—and reached for a bottle. “I know him.”

Abby froze. “You what?”

“I know him.” Kevin stared at the liquid in his glass. His fingers curled tightly around it as the alcohol softly bubbled. “I don’t—I have no clue why. I just do.”

Abby fixed Andrew with a stare. He knocked back the rest of his drink and pointed at Neil. “Stay. If I come back and you are gone—”

“What? You’ll drug me again?”

 _He is stupid._ Andrew almost wondered what would happen if he said yes. He wondered if Neil would fight him. He wondered what it would take for Neil to snap.

Andrew needed to know, because he needed to know just how bad it would be.

“Andrew,” Abby prompted, tense. He slid from his chair and followed her out of the room.

Nothing made sense.

☆

It took five minutes for Abby to give in and speak first.

“What the hell is going on?”

Andrew crossed his legs. “You think I know.”

Abby threw her hands up. She sank into the chair at her desk and sighed, running her fingers through her hair. There was a weariness to her expression that reminded Andrew of Wymack.

They were good friends. Similarly optimistic, Andrew thought. Unfortunately so.

“This has never happened,” Abby said tensely. “For a reason. I assume you know why.”

Andrew slid a vial out from his belt. Held it up to the light and turned it. He watched the liquid within slide and blink colorfully. It seemed staticky. Like his fingers were charged with electricity just from the distant contact. “This.”

“Those,” Abby agreed. “They’re used for a reason. If Stars aren’t grounded, Andrew, they lose their minds.”

“You know this.”

“Yes. _Everyone_ knows this.”

She didn’t have a clue. That much was obvious, and the answer presented itself without much maneuvering from Andrew. He could tell easily enough that Abby honestly didn’t think anything was wrong with the vials. With the drug within.

She was supposed to be like Aaron. Like Renee. A doctor of sorts, whose specialty was working with Stars.

Renee. _Just how much does she know about the drug? Does she know at all?_

If there was one thing Andrew did not tolerate, it was lies. A lie was death to him. Everyone that knew him knew that.

Now, at least he understood that no one had lied. No one in his immediate proximity, at least. They might have lied to themselves, if they had suspicions, but they did not lie to him.

No. The lying went further.

“Andrew.” Abby pressed her lips flat. “You know what happens. If you don’t take him in—”

“You think I wouldn’t.”

“You will not be trusted,” Abby continued, firm. “You will not receive the credit, and you will not help Aaron.”

A line crossed. Andrew leaned over her desk; his dagger made a dull _thunk_ in the wood. Abby pretended not to care. Held his gaze, even though Andrew could practically smell her nerves.

“Don’t say his name.”

He stowed the dagger before he made his way toward the door. Before he left, Andrew turned back to look at Abby. “Send Wymack a letter. Tell him the full dose cannot be trusted.”

He could not trust anyone, but he could trust that Abby would do what she thought was best for Wymack—and if she thought he was in danger of unwittingly doing something wrong, she would be weak enough to pass on the message and keep it secret.

Andrew could count on her to try and save Wymack. That was all he needed.

☆

Kevin and Neil sit together on a bench.

It should not be aggravating, or in any way compelling. Yet Andrew _can’t look away._

They don’t notice him, or if they did, they don’t care. Kevin’s head was bent close to Neil, and he listened while Neil murmured something. Whatever universe they occupied, it belonged only to them—or maybe to Stars.

They weren’t speaking in whatever chiming language Neil was speaking before. Andrew wondered if they could. If Kevin even remembered how.

It was enough wondering. Andrew walked across the lodge to them. “Braiding each other’s hair yet?”

“Why? Do you want to join in?” Neil’s remark fell short of its usual snap. He was distracted; it took him a full minute to tear his eyes away from Kevin and even when he did, there was a lingering want in his eyes.

In all the time Andrew had been with him, Neil had never seemed to _want_ anything for himself.

Kevin could not give Neil what he was looking for. Andrew knew with the same certainty he knew he couldn’t take Neil to the Capitol yet. Whatever memories Neil had—whatever truth or solidarity he was looking for—Kevin couldn’t reciprocate. He didn’t remember, and the only sentiment he had left for Neil was nothing but a ghostly imitation of whatever they might have had before.

An empty relationship. Andrew knew a second after Neil looked up that Neil knew the truth. He knew that this was a lost cause, and Kevin wouldn’t have the support Neil wanted.

Andrew would have expected anyone to lie to themselves. To be comforted with a weak replacement, even if it never lived up to the real thing. With one look at him, Andrew knew Neil would never do the same.

“This doesn’t make sense,” Kevin said shortly. He had recovered from the initial shock, it seemed, and was on to his usual response to anything upsetting. He was irritated. “I don’t have specific memories. I shouldn’t know his name.”

“So, talk to Renee about it. Or Jeremy,” Andrew shot back. He wanted another drink.

He wanted to stop thinking about Neil being so ready to trust and accept Kevin.

Andrew gestured toward the stairs. “There’s a room. You are not to leave my sight. If you have issues, tell me now.”

Neil surveyed Andrew with a cool gaze. “I am not allowed privacy, like I am not allowed my freedom?”

“I have told you what you wanted to know. I am done repeating myself.”

Kevin’s glance bounced between Andrew and Neil. His nose was wrinkled, and he crossed his arms over his chest, fingers tapping a beat on his shoulder. “Your idea of explanations is wildly different than most.”

Andrew stared at Kevin. He was tempted to push him back—just out of Andrew’s space, just with two fingers—but he kept his hands curled at his sides. “I did not invite you to this conversation, Kevin.”

“You’re having it in front of me.”

Neil turned suddenly. Andrew watched him snap his cloak off, the fabric rippling around his body as he stood. _For someone that is not a someone, he has remarkable control over his body._

“Why is Kevin a Hunter?” Neil asked. The question was expected, but Andrew hadn’t anticipated it while they were here. While Kevin was present, and there was no way for Neil to leverage his knowledge of the vials against whatever answer Andrew might give.

Not that he needed leverage. They had a deal, and truth could only be exchanged for truth.

Andrew filed the question away. He knew well enough how many questions he had for Neil, later. “He was given the assignment, just like every other Star.”

“Then there are other Hunters that are Stars?”

“No,” Kevin replied, tense. Andrew would have kicked him, if they weren’t standing up. “I am an exception.”

“Why?”

Kevin paused. He had never answered the question before. Andrew knew, somehow, that his answer mattered. That whatever illusions he had were important. Neil wanted truth, and whatever truth Kevin gave could sway him. “Because of what I can do,” Kevin finally said. “Because I see more than most.”

“See?” Neil echoed.

“You are asking more questions than you are worth,” Andrew interjected. He did not like the line of questioning Neil had taken. He did not like the easy answers Kevin gave, or the blind trust between them.

They should not have been so quick to trust each other. Kevin hardly divulged personal information. Neil was a Star that had just fallen; he’d been wary and resistant every step of the way. He’d hardly agreed to leave Jean’s side.

Yet there Neil was, willing to sit by Kevin and ask him questions that were far beyond simple.

“I am not asking you,” Neil said. The distinction was important, Andrew knew, but Kevin wasn’t aware of their agreement. He took Neil’s comment at face value. Probably took the dynamic between Andrew and Neil at face value, too.

“I will take him,” Kevin said.

Andrew almost wanted to smack his head. It was ridiculously high from the ground, so he settled on a hard stare. “What?”

“I can take him,” Kevin said, as if it were that easy. “You will still be credited with delivery. It will give you time to pick up another job. There are so many these days.”

“That is not the issue,” Andrew replied tightly. “What makes you think I would let you?”

Kevin looked between Andrew and Neil again, his mouth half-open in confusion. “I have done it before. You never—”

“That means nothing.”

“It does. Why does it matter if I take him now? Besides, A—”

“Do not.” Andrew pressed his dagger against Kevin’s arm. It was nothing more than a reminder; Kevin knew well enough what he was not allowed to talk about. He knew, but sometimes, his one-track mind overcame his sense of self-preservation. “I will decide what is best.”

Neil’s voice broke the tension. “What is best,” he echoed. “That seems to be going well for you.”

_But what you did was not?_

He remembered Neil’s words. Andrew remembered them precisely, in detail and with every minute inflection. He remembered the way Neil had looked when the Jackals took him, and he remembered the hurt in Neil’s expression when the drugs took hold.

Andrew could not forget. He could not forget, and that same thing seemed to have poisoned Neil. Left him the sole survivor in a war that was unfair.

Neil never had a chance. He was the only one that knew in a world full of Stars that had forgotten—and whatever it was he knew, he carried it alone. There was no one for him to turn to. No comfort he could find to give him a pitying or knowing look. Neil was holding the weight of the sky on his shoulders, and he could not let anyone save him.

He didn’t seem to want to.

“It’s late,” Andrew replied quietly. “I am going to resupply. Do not leave this lodge, or you will be found and shattered.”

He had no more desire to threaten or warn. Andrew only had an echoing exhaustion, and the hollow reminder that there were things people had hidden from him. Things that had been hidden from his people.

The Capitol was a fight that was bigger than he was immediately prepared to begin. With only the barest experience of what might be happening, Andrew had no way to know what was right or wrong. He only knew he had been lied to, and that was a rule. He did not tolerate lies.

It was not about Stars. It was not about Neil, no matter how betrayed he felt or how resentful he was of Andrew’s caution. It was not about Neil speaking a language of bells, or the way he had used his magic to heal Andrew without a second thought.

This was about lies and truth. It was about the promise that Andrew could protect Nicky and Aaron, and that he could do enough to ensure they could enter the Capitol and the safety of its walls. If the Capitol was not safe, then Nicky and Aaron weren’t safe, and the promise was broken.

And the only thing other than lies that Andrew didn’t tolerate was a broken promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello  
> i don't know what i'm doing anymore


	9. Questions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neil sees more of the city—but the more he sees, the less he understands. There are no easy answers, and in the end, he finds more questions than anything else.

“Come on,” Andrew said shortly. He tossed his cloak dramatically over his shoulders. Kevin jumped up from his chair and Andrew frowned. “Not you.”

Kevin paused. “It’s better if there’s two of us. You’re too close to risk him.”

Neil almost laughed. He was certain Andrew would take offense to the suggestion that he could lose Neil in the city.

Even if he’d already lost him once.

Finally, Andrew glared at Kevin. “Fine. Then come. Now.”

As entertaining as the exchange was, Neil was still wary. He’d been through enough the past three days—since he’d fallen, really—to know to expect the worst.  He was prepared for Andrew to take him somewhere they might drug him, or to some Star that would try to convince Neil everything was safe.

He was prepared for the worst.

☆

Kevin shook his head. “No. Next door; Dietrich has the best leather.”

Neil had stopped paying attention three shops ago. Apparently, this was a glorified shopping trip.

At least it was interesting to watch city life unfold around him. Neil hiked up the shoulder of his shirt as he peered into a stall—there were a rainbow of beans laid out in baskets, some bright and others earthy. The market seemed to have no apparent organization; food stalls sat next to artisan stands. Everything was fit into the tightest space possible, and there was hardly any room between vendors.

The street was wide, though, and Neil was glad for that small miracle. It meant that he could avoid bumping into anyone. He was more interested in watching others than being watched, anyway.

He still didn’t know how he knew Kevin, exactly. Neil was certain they had known each other, once—but it was just a flash. It wasn’t even the drug; he had memories, but they were old. Distant. Like they had known each other centuries ago, as young Stars, and they had been lost to each other for some time.

At least they weren’t lost, now.

It was nice to see someone like him. Another Star, his glow uncontained. It wasn’t startlingly brilliant, but the ochre glow hidden beneath brown skin was warm and soft. Kevin’s brown eyes flickered with bronze specks, the light casting a glow over his cheeks.

The thing was, Kevin looked…healthy. Whole, at least physically. Even if he seemed to have a gap in his memory—even if he didn’t exactly remember Neil—he was fine. Neil took a good deal of comfort from the knowledge that Kevin was fine.

Even if Neil wouldn’t be fine, Kevin was, and maybe Jean could be.

“Hey. Pay attention,” Andrew said. His voice did not raise over the chatter of the crowd, but Neil could have picked it out if people were screaming. Andrew’s annoyed gaze rested on Neil as he waited; one foot was already pointed toward a nearby shop entrance.

Away from the foot traffic and humid air of the open market, there were alleys and streets branching away from the city center. Andrew led them down one narrow street; the cobblestones underfoot were cleaner and less traveled. Neil tugged his shirt into place as he followed Kevin and Andrew up to a propped-open door.

The interior was spacious. It smelled like wood smoke, but it didn’t look like a restaurant. Instead, there were bolts of fabric fixed to the wall and leather laid out in a glass display case. Neil frowned as he stepped up to an open box of buttons; they shone brightly under the lit candles above him.

“Sometimes I think maybe I should live near you,” someone said from the far end of the room. Neil looked up to see a man come their way. He had curiously mismatched eyes, one hazel and one blue. There was a length of ribbon draped around his shoulders and a needle in his hand.

Andrew raised an eyebrow. “Kevin has been spending again? Let me guess—on Jeremy.”

“I was talking about you,” the man said, vaguely amused. He had an odd accent, Neil noticed, and he seemed to be casually sizing Neil up. “So, are you looking for a new Hunter uniform?”

“No,” Andrew said immediately. “Just something better, so I don’t have to look at that.”

“Sure.” The man smiled to himself and waved a hand, still focused on Neil. “Come this way.”

Neil leaned against the counter and stared down at the buttons again. He hadn’t expected to be dragged along to a fitting session for Andrew, but there was small comfort in not being chased, for once. At least he could think about what his next move was while Andrew probably purchased what was his hundredth pair of black pants.

“Hey.” Andrew’s short word was directed at Neil. He stared as if Neil were doing something wrong and then he said, “Let’s go. I’m not wasting time.”

“Me.”

“Yes, you.”

Kevin ran a hand over his face. “If you…I mean, you don’t have to undress to be measured. You—”

“Why do I need to be measured? Why do I need different clothes at all?” Neil frowned.

“Because you keep pulling on this,” Kevin explained, gesturing at Neil’s collar. “And it’s better to just let Andrew have his way. For now.”

Andrew raised his eyebrow at the addendum, but he didn’t argue the point. Neil resisted the urge to roll his eyes and stepped around Kevin and toward the tailor.

Around the corner, there were small stalls with velvet curtains. Each was open, the curtains tied away. At the far end of the wall was a set of mirrors.

“You can stand here. I’m guessing you’d prefer to do this clothed?” the tailor asked, pulling the ribbon from around his shoulders. It was marked, Neil realized, all along its length.

Neil flexed his hands. “Yes.”

“All right. Let me know if you want to stop,” the man added, before lifting his ribbon. “Arms up, please.”

Neil lifted his arms. He did his best to ignore the man’s work and instead focused on the ceiling. The tiny imperfections in the wooden rafters. He wondered how long it took to light the candles that rested high on the walls, and if there were any other workers in the shop that helped.

_“Is that really what you should be worried about, right now?”_

Neil shut his eyes. He didn’t expect the action to change anything, and when he opened them, he found Riko at his side anyway. He couldn’t answer without seeming insane, so he stared.

Riko looked around the room. There was a cloudy recognition on his face, but it looked like he was struggling to remember. Struggling to access memories he didn’t have.

He was just a fragment of himself. Just a shard, repeating the same things over and over. Don’t trust the Capitol.

_“You know, I think he might be changing his mind. But it doesn’t matter. He will take you because he must, and you cannot go.”_ Riko moved to stand—or float—behind the tailor, looking over his shoulder.

Neil curled his fists tighter. “You haven’t told me your name,” he said. “Something tells me I should know, if you are going to be this close to me.”

The tailor laughed quietly. “Dietrich. That’s my name.”

“Dietrich.” Neil looked toward the doorway to the front room of the shop. “Doesn’t anyone work here, Dietrich?”

“It’s just me. That’s all I need,” Dietrich mused. He measured Neil’s arms, for some reason, right above the elbow. _What exactly is he fitting me for?_ “Not that I wouldn’t welcome help, from the right person.”

_Who is the right person?_ It was hard to trust anyone, especially when Neil didn’t know what the truth was. Or who knew the truth.

Nothing had changed since he’d fallen. He still wasn’t safe, and he still couldn’t do anything to protect Jean. _I have to go back for him._

_“Do you?”_ Riko mused, his chin resting above Dietrich’s shoulder. _“He may already be dead.”_

“Shut up,” Neil muttered, before he could stop himself. He closed his eyes again. Dietrich didn’t say anything.

Riko moved. Neil could feel it. When he spoke again, he was closer. _“What good is running going to do? Haven’t you tried that before? How did that work out?”_

Neil couldn’t speak. He only thought to himself, _shut up, shut up, shut up._

Riko was right.

He was right, and Neil hated it. Hated that it was true that he couldn’t turn back. He was too far to make a difference, and even if he managed to escape, there was no telling if Jean would be there for him to save. If he could even make it back, with the Jackals and other people hunting him.

Neil was alone. The only people he could rely on were Andrew and Kevin, and he couldn’t allow himself to rely on them. On a Hunter that was prepared to take him to the Capitol and a Star that didn’t even remember who he was.

“You know, Kevin is strange,” Dietrich said suddenly.

Neil blinked. “Oh.”

Dietrich shook his head as he finished his measurements, tape wrapped around Neil’s waist. “When I first met him, I could not believe the Capitol would make him a Hunter.”

“Aren’t there more? Stars that are Hunters?” Neil asked, cautious. If Dietrich was more forthcoming than Andrew, maybe he could learn something new. Something important.

“Of course not,” Dietrich replied. He snorted and tossed the measuring tape aside. At the far end of the room, he rummaged through stacks of folded clothing. They were neatly stowed in small cupboards on the wall, a heavy curtain pulled aside to reveal half the wall. “He is a Star. They are kept safe, in the Capitol. Away from everything.”

“Not all,” Neil corrected quietly.

Dietrich returned with a few items in hand. He offered them to Neil and waited for Neil to take them before turning to open a box with needles and thread. “Change,” he directed.

Neil slid into one of the changing rooms. He pulled the curtains shut and unfolded the pile in his hands—socks, pants, shirt. He changed quickly and emerged. Dietrich took one look at him and smiled, amused, directing Neil toward him again.

“May I?” Dietrich gestured toward Neil’s shirt.

Something about Dietrich was so far from threatening that Neil said, “Yes.”

Dietrich tucked Neil’s shirt in carefully. As he worked, he explained, “Jeremy doesn’t count. He was there quite some time. I think perhaps the Capitol watches him to see how he lives. They could take him, if they wanted.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. Andrew told me Stars in the open are vulnerable. People hunt us.”

“Perhaps the Capitol knows that. Maybe they leave Jeremy alone, because he attracts them. Because ants drawn to spilled sugar are easy to kill.”

A cold shiver ran under Neil’s skin. _Easy to kill._ He couldn’t imagine a Star acting as a trap, but he’d never met Jeremy. It could be true. From what he knew about the Capitol, it was almost certainly true. They didn’t like anyone but their Hunters taking Stars. If they were so territorial, it would be easy to use a lone Star to capture people trying to hunt.

Dietrich worked quickly. The small gap at Neil’s waist disappeared almost immediately with a few turns of his needle and the soft, metallic snip of scissors. “What is it you really want to know?”

_I want to know who to trust._

“How am I supposed to dress every day if it’s this complicated?” Neil asked instead.

Dietrich’s smile flickered. He was mock serious when he explained, “Don’t worry. I am sure you’ll figure it out.” He turned away to reach for a pair of boots nearby and something folded and dark. “Here. Shoes and gloves. Try them on and look.”

The gloves came up over Neil’s elbows. They fit perfectly—almost too perfectly; it should have been impossible. Dietrich had only just measured him. The loose sleeves of Neil’s shirt bunched over the tops of the gloves, and it somehow felt right. Roomy.

Even the shoes were comfortable. They came over his knees and he tied them in the back, tight enough against his legs that he doubted rain would get through. The insides were padded, and he imagined he could walk an impossible distance in them.

When Neil finally turned to look in the mirror, he froze.

Aside from the lake, he hadn’t looked at himself fully since he’d fallen. Since he had come to inhabit a human body. Looking in the mirror, Neil was struck by the sudden realization that he could recognize himself.

Somehow, he looked like _himself_ , even if he’d never had a self—not in the way humans did, at least. His red hair was curly and messy, a few strands falling over his left eye. There were freckles on his skin, and on his left cheek, a starburst scar surrounded by smaller, circular scars.

His eyes were blue. They seemed to shine too brightly to be normal, even with all of his control holding the glow back. If he turned his head, he could see faint rays of light illuminating his cheekbones.

“Well. I meant to look at the clothes, but I suppose I can forgive you,” Dietrich said kindly. “Let’s see what the others think.”

It was hard to turn away. Hard to not look at himself, in a strange body with strange features that somehow felt right.

Neil forced himself away from the mirror. He could feel Riko following him. _“Why are you trying to lie to yourself? You know how dangerous it is to stay.”_

“I don’t have a choice,” Neil muttered under his breath.

_“Sure, you do. Think, Neil. There is always another choice.”_

Neil ignored him. Riko was fading again, anyway. Somehow, the sight made Neil pause. It was chilling to see Riko simply vanish. Worse was remembering that he wasn’t quite whole—he was just a fragment; an echo, repeating like a skipping record. He wanted to remember things he couldn’t. He had pieces of himself gone, maybe forever.

The same thing would happen to Jean. Would happen to Neil, if he didn’t figure out how he was going to escape. How he was going to get away from the Capitol.

“Better,” Kevin announced as Neil appeared. “Much better.”

Andrew didn’t say anything, but Neil could tell he was looking. He did that a lot—looking while he acted like it wasn’t important to him.

Neil wondered why. It wasn’t like he cared if Andrew looked. He’d fallen into his arms just a few nights ago, anyway. He may not have liked what Andrew did with the drugs, but he understood enough to know it wasn’t personal. Neil wasn’t going to hit Andrew for looking.

“Let’s go,” Andrew said suddenly, turning on his heel. “We have one more stop.”

Neil stared at his gloved hands before looking up at Dietrich. “I don’t have a way to pay. I—”

Dietrich raised an eyebrow, pausing in the middle of looping his ribbon around his forearm. “Andrew already paid for you.”

_Great,_ Neil thought. _Just another reason for him to hate me._

☆

One thing Neil learned was that it took energy for Riko to appear. He wasn’t sure where it came from; if it was from Neil, or if Riko collected it and waited. All he knew was that Riko couldn’t constantly be at his side. He usually only appeared once a day.

Which is why, when Neil followed Kevin and Andrew up to a smith, he was startled to see Riko coalescing at his side.

He couldn’t ask why, though, because Kevin was right behind him and wasn’t slowing down.

The sounds of metal and forgery echoed in the open arena. A wave of hot air emanated from the far end, where fire was obscured in a dark black monstrosity that sat like a lurking beast. There were three men working; one of them set his hammer aside when he saw Andrew.

Neil ignored the conversation and turned toward Riko. He was about to whisper a question when Kevin made a startled noise.

_Does he see him?_ Neil’s heart skipped and pounded erratically. _Can he? Because he’s a Star?_

Kevin looked right through Riko and at an approaching man. A Hunter, Neil realized, because he had vials at his belt. The man has sandy blonde hair with a curl that fell over his right eye; there were metal piercings on his eyebrow and nose. Something about his demeanor was brusque and defensive.

“Seth. It’s been a while,” Kevin said, uncertain. As if he didn’t know how Seth would react.

Seth glanced at Neil. He looked as if he was about to speak, but he hesitated. Like he recognized something.

_But what could he possibly know?_

Neil could tell Seth wasn’t a Star. He shouldn’t have known anything. He couldn’t, Neil told himself. Seth gaze lingered too long, though, and then he said, “Who’s this?”

“Neil,” Kevin said, wary. “Andrew’s latest.”

“He seems—” Seth stopped short and shook his head. There was a frustrated gleam to his eyes, like he didn’t want to believe what he was about to say. Neil was tempted to prompt him to say it anyway. Something told him Seth wouldn’t. “Whatever. I’m back.”

“Where did you even go?” Kevin asked, lowering his voice. “I couldn’t find out. You know we aren’t allowed—”

“I know,” Seth replied sharply. “Don’t you have something better to do with your time than interrogate me?”

Kevin scowled. “Obviously. But any problems that come back to the Foxhole are mine, too—”

“Don’t make it your problem.” Seth stared at Kevin and for a moment, Neil thought he could see the same haunted darkness in his eyes that he saw in Riko’s. The same terrible knowledge.

He wanted to ask what Seth knew, but before he could figure out how, Riko spoke at his side.

_“I miss—”_

There was a sharp noise. A low creak of glass fracturing. Neil’s hand immediately flew to his wrist, where he’d carefully wrapped the shard under his glove. A sharp stab of fear hit him squarely in the chest. _Is he shattering?_

Neil didn’t think the sound was audible, but Seth turned. Again, he seemed to hesitate, like he wanted to say something but couldn’t bring himself to. His eyes flicked over Neil like he was looking for something.

Seth knew Riko. Neil believed it; had no doubt that he was right. There was no other explanation. No reason Seth would be affected this way. Riko had disappeared, his shard cracked, and Seth was looking at Neil like he sensed the shard was there.

_But why? He’s not even a Star._ _Did he kill Riko?_

“What do I seem like?” Neil blurted. He didn’t have a better idea other than asking, and at least he knew Kevin cared enough to probably attempt to keep the conversation secret. Hopefully.

Seth’s scowl deepened. “Nosy. Shut up and follow, and you might survive your trip.”

Seth turned away and Neil found himself reaching out to stop him. He hadn’t even planned to, but his hand seemed to move on its own. The moment he touched Seth’s arm, Seth jerked away violently. Neil would have brushed it off as annoyance or anger, but he saw Seth’s eyes. Saw the emotions buried deep under his surly façade.

Seth was afraid, and he was mourning. He was _sad_. The despair was obvious even at a glimpse, and it nearly knocked Neil backward.

“Leave me alone,” Seth said shortly. He held a warning finger between them, but Neil could see Seth’s arm shake. “Just—leave me alone.”

Neil wanted to follow him. He felt the urge to follow; to press until Seth explained what the hell was happening. He wanted to know how Seth could sense Riko. He _needed_ to know what it all meant, and how the hell he was going to escape being taken to the Capitol.

Kevin held Neil’s arm. He held Neil back, but he watched Seth leave just the same. “Don’t,” he said quietly. “Something happened to him. I don’t…know if he’s come back from it.”

“What happened?”

“He was escorting a Star. They never made it.”

_A Star._ It couldn’t have been Riko. Except it had to be, and _nothing made sense._ Not unless Riko had some magical twin that was a star. It couldn’t be true that Riko was a human that lived in the Capitol but also a Star that Seth had found.

But Neil had Riko’s shard, and that wasn’t possible, either.

Neil didn’t even care about things making sense, anymore. All he wanted was to leave. Leave, find Jean, and go somewhere safe. Somewhere they could both live without being hunted or fearing for their lives.

_I couldn’t find a place like that in the skies. Why the hell would I find it here?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while. I'm dealing with some major wrist and elbow pain (and rent...again...) but I am intent on finishing this within the next week! I hope you enjoy, and I promise the secrets will start to unravel within the next two chapters...


	10. Glass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A message confirms Andrew's suspicions. Unfortunately, there's nowhere to run and the Capitol's soldiers are too close.  
> With everything coming to a head, Neil has a secret Andrew needs to dig into before he can trust Neil enough to go on the run with him.

Dietrich always did a good job. It was the reason Andrew never bothered visiting anyone else in the city when he needed his clothes replaced or repaired.

Clearly, though, he got carried away with Neil.

Beneath the almost-transparent sleeves of Neil’s shirt, Andrew could see freckles on Neil’s shoulders. He wondered if they glowed, too, or if they were just part of his human body.

It was pointless to think about it. Andrew tore his eyes away and stared at Kevin instead. “So? What was Seth doing here?”

Kevin squirmed. He was taking longer to answer questions than usual—a change Andrew hadn’t missed. It could not be possible that Neil had inspired that much confidence, or rather stupidity, in Kevin. Not when he’d only been around for a day.

Though Neil was fairly idiotic. Andrew just hadn’t imagined he was foolish enough to infect Kevin.

“I don’t know,” Kevin finally said. “He…seemed like he knew something about Neil, though.”

“Knew what.”

“I don’t—”

Andrew tapped his fingers against the hilt of his dagger. He stared evenly at Kevin and said, “Say you don’t know. Again.”

“He doesn’t,” Neil interrupted. Andrew itched to prod him with his dagger; remind him of the danger he was in. Neil didn’t seem bothered by Andrew’s stare. _Stupid._ “Apparently, Seth lost his last Star. If that’s true, why do you think it’s about me specifically?”

Andrew cast a long look at Kevin. He would have to deal with Kevin’s suddenly loose lips at another time, when Neil wasn’t trying to be clever.

It was true that Seth had lost someone. It was also true that no one but Seth knew what had really happened.

“I don’t trust Seth.” Andrew turned away from the smith and tucked the slip of paper with his order on it into his pocket. “You should trust him even less.”

“Trust isn’t gradable,” Neil said quietly.

That was true, too.

Truth was easy for Andrew. It was preferred. He could use truth to make decisions about everything; who to trust, what to believe, how to act. Having a perfect memory made it even simpler to catch lies and learn truths.

No matter how much Andrew scoured his memories, he couldn’t think of a single thing that proved the Capitol was lying.

The problem was, he also couldn’t think of anything that proved the Capitol was telling the truth.

“Oh, good.” Abby was breathless; she froze in place, a few steps away from the front door. “Andrew, you have a message. I left it on the bar. I need to go.”

Andrew weighed stopping Abby against reading the message. He had a feeling Abby’s swift departure wasn’t coincidence, but the message was more important to him. The possibility of Aaron or Nicky or even Renee calling on him was more important.

He could deal with stabbing a threat that came up on him in the meantime.

When he swung the door open, Andrew’s eyes immediately found the message. It was a small, rough card laid out on the bar. The paper was familiar. Even before Andrew reached the card and looked down at the blocky handwriting, he knew it was from Wymack.

_Andrew-_

_Allison had a run-in with the Jackals. I don’t know what happened, but she says she blacked out and her vials were gone. The Emperor showed up._

_Something’s wrong. Whatever is going on with the Stars that keep falling, it doesn’t make sense. We’ve been receiving the locations before anyone on the ground has confirmed them. They shouldn’t know that Stars are going to fall, or where the hell they’ll end up. None of this makes sense._

_I don’t know where you are, or what your plan is. Look out for yourself. Make it back._

_\- Wymack_

Andrew stared down at the paper. He only needed to read it once to remember it. He only needed to read it once to know that Wymack had the same suspicions that he did.

“What is it?” Kevin pulled his cloak off and hung it by the door. He was already chewing on his bottom lip. “Wymack, right?”

_Look out for yourself._

Andrew didn’t trust. Not in people. His trust was in the truth. Truth, like how people would react and what they wanted more than anything.

Kevin wanted to get away. Even if he didn’t realize or understand it himself, Kevin wanted to be away with Jeremy. It wasn’t just about being _with_ Jeremy, either. It was the concept of leaving the Hunters behind and living in a place that was in the sun. Whatever Kevin did, Andrew could trust that it would be to the purpose of keeping Kevin safe and alive until he could leave his job.

Kevin was only a Hunter so that he could stop being a Hunter. Andrew could trust that.

So, he could trust that Kevin wouldn’t say anything about what Andrew would tell him. “Something happened during Allison’s job. The Capitol is involved with the falling Stars.”

Kevin was silent for nearly a full minute. Silence was telling, too—Andrew preferred silence, and he knew how to read it. He knew that Kevin’s moment of comprehension and grappling with the news was complicated. Andrew could practically see the fear and disbelief condense.

“That can’t be possible,” Kevin finally said.

“It is,” Neil interrupted. He glanced at Kevin and then looked to Andrew, blue eyes sharp. “Isn’t it? Kind of like those vials.”

“Vials? What about the vials?” Kevin’s hands twitched, rising toward his belt.

Andrew returned Neil’s gaze unflinchingly. _He really is an idiot._ But he hadn’t told Kevin already, and Andrew didn’t know what to make of that. “They do…something. Possibly erase memories.”

“We already knew they affected memory,” Kevin replied, tense. “That’s the price for ensuring stability—”

“Do you honestly believe yourself when you say that?” Neil suddenly demanded. There was a faint light glowing from his eyes, the bluish sheen dusting his cheeks. Andrew’s hand wandered toward his dagger, but he didn’t feel the need to draw it. There was something different about Neil’s irritated glow. “I’m serious. When you say that, and you hear yourself talk, how do you not immediately want to slap yourself?”

“He says plenty of things he should slap himself for,” Andrew murmured.

Neil shot Andrew an unimpressed look before turning his attention back to Kevin. “Even ignoring the fact that you’re just accepting whatever the Capitol tells you, how do you explain Jeremy?”

“Jeremy?” Kevin looked at Andrew, a faint note of panic in his tone. “How does he know—”

Andrew raised an eyebrow and waved his hand toward Neil. Kevin clearly wanted to pursue the subject, but he curled his hands into fists and answered instead. “What do you mean, explain?”

“He’s never had whatever is in the vials, and he’s just fine.”

“He’s an exception.”

Andrew would have laughed. He could see Kevin doubting his words as he spoke. _An exception. No one is an exception._ “Stop taking your doses,” he said shortly. “That’s not a request.”

“Doses?” Neil echoed, dangerously quiet.

Kevin’s hand curled at his waist. “Yes. Regular doses. Much smaller, but monthly. They’re just supposed to keep us grounded in our bodies.”

_Or keep you stupid. Slowly erase everything but what they want from you._

Wymack suspected the Capitol, and he didn’t even know what Andrew did about the vials. _Abby ran off._ Andrew tapped his fingers against his dagger. “I need to find Wymack.”

“You can’t,” Kevin replied immediately.

“You should seriously reconsider telling me what to do.”

“If he’s right and the Capitol is involved, you have to wait,” Kevin insisted. “Allison’s job? It’s barely one city over. If the Capitol has people out there, they may come by.”

“We’ll just have to move faster than them. It won’t be hard.”

Neil cleared his throat. Andrew didn’t trust him to actually be attempting politeness—

—and sure enough, Neil opened his mouth and said, “Not to be that guy, but you realize one of your pretty knives is at the smith’s?”

Andrew froze with his hand on the hilt of his dagger. He knew, obviously; he hadn’t forgotten. Weighing escape against his knife, however, had been a simple decision once he’d decided he could simply double back or have Kevin bring it after a day.

The problem was, Andrew hadn’t even realized he had made the decision to abandon his weapon in favor of escaping with Neil.

“He’s right,” Kevin said confidently. Andrew was hardly paying attention to him. “It’s better to wait. The only thing leaving now will do is draw suspicion. You don’t even know where the Capitol’s people might be.”

“And how do you suggest we find out?”

Kevin shrugged. “Send—”

“—a bird,” Andrew finished mockingly. Neil looked between them, lost. Andrew waved a hand at Kevin. “Do it. But I won’t wait more than a day.”

Kevin took the stairs three at a time. Andrew ignored him and his absurdly long legs, instead focused on Neil.

Dietrich really did outdo himself. With clothes that actually fit, Neil looked more like a Hunter than a Star. He also looked like he needed a haircut. Andrew considered it and said, “Can you even see through those things you call bangs?”

“I never called them that.” Neil raised his eyebrows and they disappeared behind the curls draped over his forehead. “Is my hair really what you’re concerned about right now? You seem disproportionately invested in the way I look.”

 _No._ Neil wasn’t wrong, but Andrew wouldn’t say as much. He folded the card in his hands and tapped it against the bar next to him. “What was it that Seth said to you?”

“We already told you—”

“I’m asking again.” _Without Kevin around._ Andrew wasn’t blind. He hadn’t missed the way Neil looked at Kevin, when Kevin wasn’t paying attention. It was the same pitiful mixture of hope and determination that Neil had looked at Jean with. Andrew knew it was going to bite Neil in the ass. It was just a matter of time.

Neil moved to one of the stools at the bar. When he sat, his feet were inches off the floor. He tucked them up against his body and rested his chin on his knees, staring at Andrew. “He said I seemed.”

“What.”

Neil shrugged. “You asked.”

“What exactly did he say?” Andrew curled his hands around the chair next to him. Neil was telling the truth, of course. He was just being petty about it.

It was not amusing. It was annoying. _Keep thinking it, and maybe you’ll believe it._

Neil waved a hand vaguely. “He said, ‘he seems,’ and then he cut himself off.”

“Nothing else.”

“Nothing.”

That wasn’t it, though. Andrew could tell there was something else, but he didn’t know what. He knew Neil wasn’t lying—Seth had only said what Neil repeated.

It was just a matter of asking the right question.

“What do you think the Capitol is doing it for?” Neil asked suddenly.

Andrew bitterly wondered if Neil cared, or if this was just part of their agreement to exchange. _Does he care about anything but going back to Jean? What does he even think he can do? There’s no place to hide._

Andrew shrugged. “If they somehow figured out how to predict falling Stars, the only reason they haven’t said anything is so that the Jackals won’t find out. So that the citizens don’t try and replicate it. I already told you—”

“They’re possessive,” Neil finished quietly.

Andrew did not like the way Neil said the word. Like he knew it well; knew the syllables inside and out, back and forth, in some way he could not forget.

This was never a problem. It had never been a problem before Neil. Andrew didn’t appreciate that, and he did not believe that one person—one _Star_ —could change his mind so completely. So suddenly. Andrew had never bothered to care about the Stars he bought to the Capitol. None of them had particularly minded being clothed or fed, either.

Andrew was beginning to suspect that wasn’t the point.

“We are not going to stay. Like I said, one day,” Andrew repeated.

Neil looked down at his gloved hands. “One day,” he agreed. “That’s all the time we have.”

☆

Neil was already at one of the tables in the morning. There was a small ceramic mug between his hands and the steam was curling around his face.

As Andrew watched, Neil glanced to his right. There was no one there, but the way he looked at the empty space was significant. His eyebrows were bunched together in the middle and he hesitated, his hand curling tightly around his mug.

Andrew had noticed this. It was always fleeting; enough so that Andrew had been able to dismiss it. Now, as he watched Neil duck his head over his mug, Andrew suspected it wasn’t just a mistake.

_Is he really unstable?_

Neil rested his forehead in his palm. He wasn’t looking at empty space anymore, but Andrew couldn’t tell if he was talking. _He had a dose, even if it was incomplete._ It didn’t make sense that Neil would be spiraling. Besides, just like he’d pointed out, Jeremy was fine.

Still.

Andrew finally gave up on watching and went to sit across from Neil. There were no other Hunters in the lodge aside from Kevin, who was probably out listening to city gossip or waiting for Allison’s reply. Even Abby didn’t seem to be around.

“Having a heart-to-heart with yourself? You should reconsider your attitude.”

Neil didn’t look up from his mug. It smelled familiar, and Andrew realized a moment too late that it was hot chocolate. He stared at the ceramic beneath Neil’s fingers for a moment too long. Neil caught his gaze and sipped carefully. The blue of Neil’s eyes was brighter than usual, and there were shimmering colors in his irises. This early in the morning, Andrew wondered if Neil just couldn’t control the light within him.

Or maybe he felt safe enough to let his control loosen.

“You know, you’re the only one that’s interested in my attitude,” Neil mused.

“Wrong. I’m not interested,” Andrew replied, but it tasted like a lie. He shook his head once. “I do not care how much trouble you land in, so long as you do so without dragging me or Kevin along.”

Neil traced the rim of his cup with a finger. “I’m not dragging,” he muttered. “If anything, aren’t you the one dragging me?”

“You want to leave?” Andrew rested his arms on the table and leaned forward. They were still too far apart to be close, but Neil’s eyes darted toward Andrew. He took in every detail the same way Kevin assessed threats, and Andrew did not like that. He lifted his empty hands and shrugged. “You could. How far do you think you would get?”

“I’ve heard this already,” Neil replied. He still spoke under his breath, like he thought someone would overhear.

_Or like he’s not talking to me._

Andrew snapped. Neil blinked and looked back at him again. “Neil. Neil, who are you talking to?”

“A Hunter.”

“Don’t do this.” Andrew warned.

Neil pulled his hands back, away from his mug and the table and Andrew. Whatever faint light was in his eyes disappeared almost immediately. “Why don’t we talk about Kevin?”

“Changing the subject won’t change the truth.”

“You want the truth? Then tell the truth. You never told me Stars were _still_ given doses after the first.”

Andrew tapped his fingers against the table. _Where the fuck is Kevin, anyway?_ He hadn’t thought he needed to tell Kevin to stay near, but apparently, that much wasn’t obvious enough. “Not all of them,” he said shortly.

Neil leaned back. “Not all? And how is it decided, then?”

“Kevin was—he _is_ powerful,” Andrew corrected. He knew the mistake was a bad one, and Neil knew it, too. “The more power a star has, the more likely they will reject a human body.”

“Is that what they told you?” Neil smiled humorlessly. “So, how long?”

“Does it even matter?”

“How long?” Neil repeated, quieter. “I know you’re not afraid. You’re not guilty. So, what? Why won’t you say it?”

The front door opened. Andrew could hear Kevin’s footsteps approaching, and he knew it seemed like a timely excuse not to answer. Neil didn’t back down. He held Andrew’s gaze and waited.

“They’re close,” Kevin said. He sounded almost breathless, like he’d run from somewhere. “This isn’t going to be easy. I don’t think you should stay—”

A cough interrupted him halfway through his sentence. Andrew’s response died on his tongue as he watched Kevin cough into his closed fist.

“Are you sick?” Neil asked slowly. “I thought—”

“No,” Kevin replied immediately, but he sounded uncertain. He coughed again and vaulted the bar, irritated. He filled a glass and replied, “It’s nothing. Just—dust.”

 _Stardust_. Andrew smiled bitterly. _I wonder what withdrawal will do to him?_

“We need to tell Nicky. He has to know. He and Jean—”

A glass shattered on the ground. Andrew turned in his seat immediately to find Kevin standing still, blinking in shock as he looked down at his feet. The glass he’d been holding was in pieces on the floor.

Andrew stood. “What—”

“I just—um.” Kevin stumbled through his words. He looked pale and dazed. “Sorry, I—”

“Jean,” Neil repeated. He raised his voice and Andrew watched as Kevin stopped breathing for a moment, his fingers curling around empty air. Neil’s next question was hushed. “You know him.”

“I don’t—the name—”

“You _do_ know him,” Neil said. He left his chair and went to Kevin, ignoring the glass on the floor. Andrew distantly wondered if it would cut him. If it would even matter. “You know his name, don’t you?”

“I don’t know who he is.” Kevin blinked and then looked down at his hands. He was crying. “I don’t—Neil, I—”

Neil reached up and Kevin met him halfway, ducking to let Neil hold his head. Andrew felt an itch burning under his skin; a warning mounted at the back of his mind. _Don’t do this. Dangerous._

Andrew stepped across the glass. It made a grating, crunching noise under his boots. He realized it hadn’t made noise when Neil moved. “This isn’t the time,” he said firmly. “We have other things to address.”

“This is the _only_ time,” Neil hissed. “How bad does this have to get before any of you do something about it? You can’t win if you’re in pieces—”

“Win? Win what?” Kevin pressed the heel of his hand into his forehead, wincing.

“You cannot fight the Capitol,” Andrew replied sharply. He’d avoided the words for too long. “You do not know anything. Even if they are to blame for the drug and the memories, it doesn’t matter. They will not allow Hunters to stop using the vials.”

“Is that what this is about?” Kevin asked faintly. “Neil. Don’t fight them. _Don’t._ If you do, you’ll _never_ have a chance to—”

“What? Escape?” Neil laughed. The sound was short and harsh, devoid of any joy. “Do you ever listen to yourself? You keep saying you’re doing these things so that one day, you won’t have to. Do you actually think that day will ever come?”

“Then, what?” Kevin snapped. “You want me to fight? What good is that going to do? If I fight them, I—”

“You what? None of you have told me anything about consequences,” Neil pressed. “All I hear about the Capitol is that it’s great, but then you go and say things that sound more ominous than anything else.”

“You don’t know anything,” Andrew said quietly. Even as he spoke, he could feel a headache pounding against his brow. _When did that start? Probably when he started talking._

Neil turned quickly and stormed over to the table. Kevin’s vials were there, discarded the night before when Andrew had told him about their suspicions. Andrew’s hand curled around his dagger. “What are you doing?”

“If I’m wrong, this won’t do anything, right?” Neil dumped the hot chocolate out of his mug and began pouring in the vials. “I could drink an entire mug, and it wouldn’t make a difference. I’ll just pass out.”

“Neil,” Kevin said, horrified.

Andrew couldn’t believe that Neil would do it, but he took one look at the scowl on Neil’s face and decided he was wrong. For once. “This is pointless. You—”

“If this is what it takes to make you two stop being so goddamn stubborn,” Neil began, lifting the mug—

— _I can’t let that happen,_ Andrew thought, and then he slapped the mug out of Neil’s hand. It flew across the bar and shattered in the middle of the floor, the bright liquid creeping between ceramic shards.

 _Abby will be angry about the broken cups,_ Andrew thought distantly, and then he stopped thinking.

Andrew watched the liquid creep along the floorboards. It burned a path behind it, glowing and flickering into darkness. Tiny shards of the broken mug crept backwards, shivering under an invisible force.

Two chips lined up neatly together and came to rest at the edge of the shattered mug.

_It’s not a mistake._

Kevin inhaled a ragged breath. Andrew turned quickly to see Kevin shaking, his fingers digging into Neil’s shoulders and his eyes wide. He wasn’t looking at the mug. He wasn’t even entirely present.

“Oh, God.” Kevin gasped. “Oh my— _Riko_ —”

The tiny flicker of recognition and shock in Neil’s eyes was all Andrew needed to see. “What the fuck do you mean, ‘Riko’?”

_What does this have to do with the first Emperor’s second son?_

“Do you see him?” Neil asked, insistent. His voice was rough as he stared up at Kevin.

It came to Andrew in perfectly preserved detail—the moments Neil had seemed to look at someone that wasn’t there. When he answered a question and didn’t exactly make sense. All the tiny realizations that Andrew had seen but missed.

“Kevin,” Neil repeated, louder. _“Do you see him?”_

Kevin’s answer was lost in the sound of an explosion that rocked the city. More mugs and glasses fell from the shelves behind the bar.

Andrew stormed toward the doors to lock them. Just as he reached them, they flew open to reveal Jeremy and Jean. They were breathless and rumpled, dust and dirt smudged on their faces.

“Hello there,” Jeremy said brightly. His tone didn’t match his restless expression. “I’d love to chat, but we need to leave. Now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wowie this has been a trip  
> i hope you enjoyed the update, and there will be more soon


	11. Mayhem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Capitol wants its Stars. As Neil finds himself being pushed toward the one place he has fought so violently against being taken to, he finds the threads of the truth unraveling before him.  
> It is not a happy tale.

Too much had happened at once.

There were a few things Neil knew. He knew that Kevin had remembered something about Riko—something important, from the way he’d reacted. Neil knew that whatever the Capitol’s drug was, it ate away at memories and made Stars forget.

Neil was not sure he was ready to find out what it was they had forgotten.

Of course, nothing was as important as the figures standing in the doorway. One, Neil didn’t recognize. He was suntanned, a messy ponytail of golden hair tied away from his face. He had bronze freckles and honey-bright eyes. It had to be Jeremy, Neil assumed. The other person was obvious.

“Jean,” Neil said immediately. It was almost reflex. He darted from Kevin’s side and found Jean’s arms around him faster than he could ask for them.

For the first time in days, Neil felt completely grounded. But he didn’t feel safe. Not like he expected to.

Or rather, he felt safe, but it wasn’t different. It was the same as he had felt with Andrew and Kevin, only it was Jean. _And what does that mean?_

There was no time to wonder. Jeremy panted a little and waved his hand agitatedly. “I’m serious. We have to go.”

“Why?” Kevin demanded. He’d already crossed the room to hover at Jeremy’s side, indiscreetly looking for injuries. “What are you doing here? You shouldn’t have left. You know that.”

Jeremy blew a strand of hair out of his face. He started backpedaling toward the door and Neil watched as Jean instinctively took a step back with him.

_Oh._

It might have been loneliness that Neil felt in his chest. _Maybe this is what bittersweet feels like,_ he thought distantly. He felt Jean’s arms fall from around him and felt like the step between their bodies was a mile.

“Explain.” Andrew’s command was surprisingly close. Neil glanced sideways to find the man by his side, as if he had silently appeared there.

“Sure.” Jeremy gestured again, determined. Neil glanced at Andrew. The fleeting agreement in his gaze was a clear message. _He can be trusted._

Outside, the city was in a state of controlled chaos. Neil wondered how often the Capitol—or its minions—attacked the people, that they barely blinked at the destruction. Just like before, there was rubble skittering across the ground and dust in the air. Nothing essential seemed to be targeted, but the confusion of the action was strategic enough to hide something else.

Something like a kidnapping, probably.

“It seems like we have some very important Stars on our hands,” Jeremy explained. He ducked into an alley, Jean and Kevin close on his heels. “I’m not sure how the Capitol knows about them, or if they know. Maybe they just think Jean and Neil are powerful. Whatever it is, the Ravens are on our tail.”

“Ravens?” Neil glanced at Andrew, confused.

Kevin shook his head. “The Capitol’s police. They usually look for people trying to take Stars.”

“What would the Capitol know what about the Stars that makes them so important?” Andrew interrupted.

Jean glanced over his shoulder, lips pressed into a thin line. There was an apology in his eyes. _It doesn’t matter,_ Neil wanted to reply. _He already hates me._

“Do you know what a Red Giant is?” Jean asked quietly.

“An extremely powerful star. A cold one,” Andrew added. “And we are wasting time.”

“My…father, I guess you would call him. He is a Red Giant,” Neil explained. If the city wasn’t being attacked, he suspected the silence would be deafening.

“Is.”

Neil smiled humorlessly. _Of course, he’d pick up on it._ “I can see him. He’s still there.”

A cold chill ran down Neil’s spine. He remembered checking, the first night he was alone on Earth. He had looked, and some part of him hoped he wouldn’t see the Star. Some part of him viciously prayed that when Neil fell, he’d clawed at Nathaniel and dragged him down, too.

That was the only reason Neil could accept falling. If he pulled Nathaniel down with him—if he did something to help keep Jean safe—then it made falling worth it.

“Why does it even matter?” Kevin asked, frustrated. He ducked as something flew overhead; rubble shattered on the street beside them. “It’s not like—”

_Like they could knock us out of the sky._

Neil didn’t even notice that he stopped running. The realization of what was happening erased everything else from his mind and suddenly, all he could think of were the clues.

He couldn’t remember falling. None of the Stars could. They were made to forget, they were locked away, and the only ones that left were loyal. No one else was allowed to take the Stars that fell from the sky. People said they were given work to do—things that benefitted the Capitol.

They helped their fellow Stars. Gave the Capitol all their knowledge about them.

 _How long?_ Neil wondered. _How long have they been making us fall?_

He watched Kevin pause and turn, brow furrowed when he found Neil frozen in place.

_How long have we been betraying each other?_

“Down!”

The yell was swallowed by an explosion. It was close. Too late, Neil realized it was close enough to knock him off his feet. He flew sideways, the impact of hitting a wall echoing through his body. He gritted his teeth at the spike of pain that radiated from his shoulder.

Someone coughed nearby. He could hear his name, but he couldn’t see anything. There were footsteps pounding against the ground, and he wasn’t sure if they were townspeople or the Capitol’s Ravens.

When the dust began to clear, Neil saw Kevin struggling. The figure that held him was clad in black, and they wore a strange mask with a short, curved nose. _Not a nose. A beak,_ he realized. It was a Raven.

Neil distantly wondered if the Capitol was always so dramatic, and then he watched another Raven step up to Kevin. “You are coming with us,” they said, voice distorted behind the mask. “Submit and comply.”

_I guess so._

There wasn’t much time to wonder about what was happening or plan a way out. Neil sprang to his feet and darted toward the Ravens.

Neil hadn’t attempted anything since healing Andrew days ago. He wasn’t even sure if he could do anything, much less how to do it. The only thing he knew was how to let the light within him go—

—and so, he did. Neil exhaled and released the light of himself, inch by inch. It felt hot and wild, like an animal kept too long in a cage.

As soon as Neil laid his hands on the Raven holding Kevin, the figure flew backwards a few dozen feet and crashed into an empty vendor’s stall.

“Oh, shit.” Neil stared down at his hands.

Kevin’s wide-eyed survey of the fallen Raven seemed to say the exact same thing.

The adrenaline high that rushed through Neil’s body was matched by the sudden dread of a memory. The last time he’d tried to use his power, if that was what you called it, he’d passed out. Just one cut healed, and Neil had been out of it for hours.

He really hoped he wouldn’t pass out in the middle of the fight. Something told him Andrew would willingly step on Neil’s back just to get the higher ground on someone else.

Kevin shook himself from surprise long enough to fight the other Raven before him. Neil left him to the fight, already scouring the chaotic street for Jean. He found Jean after a few moments of searching, but the relief he felt was momentary. A cloud of something blue-white and luminous exploded near Jean’s face and then he fell, crashing to the ground in a tangle of limbs.

Neil sprinted toward Jean. He wasn’t sure where Jeremy or Andrew were, but it didn’t matter to him as much as the way Jean was curled on the ground.

This time, the light came easily. It was more than light, though; it felt like energy. The glow was pure action, bursting from somewhere contained. The endlessness Neil had always been was trapped in a human body, and it concentrated itself until it radiated so much power he couldn’t hold it in.

The Raven that stood over Jean went flying. Neil skidded to a halt and dropped to his knees, hands searching for injuries. There were none. “Jean,” Neil pleaded, shaking him. “Jean. Wake up. We—”

“Neil!” This time, it was Jeremy that shouted. The alarm on his face was genuine, and for a split second, Neil could tell why Jean had come to trust him so much. He could see why Andrew and the others trusted him.

He could see why the Capitol might watch Jeremy from afar.

The Starlight within Neil tugged at him instinctively. He let it out without direction and felt the ripple of air around him, a burst of energy knocking back the figures that surrounded him. There were two Raven behind him, he realized. The sounds of their bodies tumbling into buildings was almost comforting.

The knowledge that Neil could do something to help keep Jean and Kevin— _and Andrew_ —safe gave him a small rush of relief.

The relief was short-lived. Neil felt a hand clamp over his mouth, sudden, and then a voice whispered in his ear.

“You cannot run from this.”

Something hazy and blue-white clouded the world. Neil blinked sluggishly and tried to move, but his limbs were dead weight. He fell sideways and found himself face-to-face with Jean.

The last thing Neil saw was Jean’s face and the only thing he could think was, _at least we will go together._

_At least I can still save him._

☆

Neil wasn’t sure if he was awake.

He was somewhere dark. His body felt heavy, but he felt indescribably light. He wondered if it was the power he’d used in the fight.

_“You don’t have much time.”_

Riko’s voice was a whisper. Neil looked around and couldn’t find an image of him. Wherever he was, he couldn’t make out any shapes. The darkness seemed blacker than black, and he had a sudden stab of irrational fear. A fleeting panic told him _you are in a black hole,_ but the thought disappeared almost immediately. If he was in a black hole, he wouldn’t be alive.

_“Neil. There’s no time.”_

Neil gathered himself and attempted to stand. He found he could and guessed he wasn’t dreaming. He didn’t even trust himself, anymore. “Where’s Jean?”

_“Safer than you, right now.”_

“What does that even mean?”

All Neil wanted to do was sleep. Lie down and curl up, avoid the fighting, and maybe spend a few days just sleeping. He wasn’t sure what emotion this was or what human failing he was experiencing. All he knew was that he was tired. He was tired of the fighting and even more exhausted by the constant distrust and running.

The voice that reminded him that running was living was quieter, these days. Maybe even the voice was tired.

It was surprisingly lonely, not being able to see Riko. Neil reached his arms out and tried to feel for a wall. He walked some distance before he hit something vaguely smooth and cool. It was wet, too. Stone. He wondered if he was in a well, or something equally distant and damp.

_Would they leave me here? Wait and see how long it takes for my body to die?_

_“Don’t.”_ Neil imagined Riko’s face. Determined expression, probably. Maybe a little annoyed. _“I will tell you what they are going to do. You will have to find a way out.”_

“I can’t even see a way out,” Neil muttered as he felt around. “I can’t see anything.”

_“Keep looking.”_

There was only one seam. Neil felt the bump under his fingertips and he paused to follow it from the ground, up as far as he could reach. It might have been a door. He wasn’t sure if it was big enough. The line was mostly straight, though a few bumps stood out. “How do you suddenly know?” He realized. “I thought you were—”

 _“Shattered.”_ Riko sounded strange. Fractured. As if he was thinking about something else. _“I’m…here, too. I think. I can hear more. More of me.”_

Neil paused. His heart thumped painfully, and he imagined what could be beyond his black cell. Some torture room, maybe. A collection of shards from Stars that had been shattered.

“Tell me who you are. You were human, weren’t you? You can’t be a Star.”

 _“I wasn’t human. I wasn’t a Star.”_ Riko’s voice faded. Neil wondered if he was looking for the memory. He could imagine Riko straining to reach his memories, tiny beams of light weak in the darkness. When his voice returned, it was louder. _“There’s no time to explain. I need to tell you._ ”

Neil found a place to sit. He was tired, and he could feel the same cotton-mouthed headache he’d developed after healing Andrew. _If I pass out,_ he thought, _I’m useless._

 _“The Emperor would knock Stars out of the sky. My father,”_ Riko began. _“He found a way, and he would take what he needed. But my Uncle did not believe in that. He wanted more. He killed my father.”_

“That’s why more have fallen.” Neil closed his eyes; even the darkness of his eyelids seemed brighter than the cell he was in. “The Emperor has been taking more. Why?”

_“Why else? You saw what you did.”_

“Power.” Neil laughed humorlessly. “It’s always about power, isn’t it?”

There was a sound in the distance. A thumping noise. The world seemed like it was rocking slowly. _Am I on a boat?_ Neil braced his hands against the wall and moved toward a corner. His heart raced faster, and he desperately searched for something to cling to.

 _“Wrong.”_ Neil blinked, startled. _“The Emperor wants to live forever,”_ Riko whispered. Neil’s heart sank as he realized what Riko meant. _“That’s why.”_

Forever. Neil could see the memory clearly—Andrew’s bloodied hand held between Neil’s, the soft glow of starlight bathing them both as Neil healed him. Neil knew what he could do when he unleashed his power to protect himself. _Just how much could you heal with one Star? How much could you extend your life?_

“He’s killing us to keep himself alive.” Neil swallowed past a lump in his throat. He felt like vomiting; he wasn’t sure if it was the drug used to knock him out or the realization of what had happened. “Is that what he did to you? He killed you and took your life for himself?”

 _“You have to get out,”_ Riko whispered. _“So long as Tetsuji is alive, he will never stop, and no Star will be safe.”_

The conversation in the alley came back suddenly. _Do you know what a Red Giant is?_ “He wasn’t after me,” Neil realized, horrified. “He wanted my father. He wanted a Giant.”

_“And if he does…”_

“He’s going to live forever,” Neil choked out. The earth shook harder and then, suddenly—

—he woke.

Jean’s chest heaved with panicked breath. He exhaled a relieved sigh and Neil blinked, aware that Jean’s hands were on his shoulders.

“Okay. Great. One problem down,” Jean muttered. He brushed his hair away from his face and leaned back on his heels.

Neil winced as he levered himself up. It was as cold and damp as his dream, but he could see the cell he was in clearly. The walls and floor were stone, and the only door was heavy wood wrought with iron. “Well, this seems predictably dungeon-y.”

“I’m glad _you_ were expecting this,” Jean replied shortly. “Could you use your prophetic vision to figure out what we do next?”

“All right, I get it.” Neil sighed and stood slowly. He ran a hand over the back of his head, testing for injuries. “We have to get out.”

“Obviously.” Jean stared at him, a faint hint of concern in his features. “Did you hit yourself or something? You don’t usually state the obvious.”

Neil bit his lip. He couldn’t hear Riko and he didn’t want to risk looking at the shard when someone could come in at any moment. “I found a shard,” he confessed quickly, his voice low. “He’s been telling me things. Like how the Emperor has been knocking Stars out of the sky.”

Jean was quiet for a full minute. “Fuck,” he finally announced. “Well, that’s great. I don’t suppose when they realize we’re not Giants, they’ll just let us go?”

“Sure. Maybe we’ll get free cake, too.” Neil sighed and rubbed his hands over his face. “This has all been a stupidly complex mess, and for what? Some power-hungry, psychotic Emperor that wants to live forever.”

The second he said it, Neil realized Jean probably didn’t know. He was proved right when Jean spoke, his voice strained. “Well, that’s nice. He’s going to force a Supernova. At least we’ll go in style.”

Neil could count on one hand the number of supernovas he’d seen. They were all spectacularly bright and dramatic, but they weren’t quiet or peaceful deaths by any stretch of the imagination.

There were two ways that a Star could reach Supernova. Either they took too much energy from other Stars, or they ran out of energy and collapsed under their own weight.

At one point, Neil had wished his father would die in the first case. He’d wished Nathaniel would take so much from Neil and others that he would explode in a fit of hunger and greed.

“We can’t let him,” Neil said quietly. “He’s the reason we fell. Why others fell.”

Jean slid onto the ground next to Neil. His hands were warm; they rested on top of Neil’s with a familiar weight. “Does your shard have any helpful suggestions?”

“No. Not yet.” Neil sighed and leaned his head back against the wall. “But when that door opens, I’ll fight. You have to get out and find the others.”

Jean’s hands tightened their grip. “I won’t leave alone.”

“You have to.”

“No. I don’t.” Jean turned to face Neil, scowling. “First of all, you’re an idiot if you think one person can make it out alone. Besides which, we don’t even know where we are or how to get out.”

Neil felt a smile flicker to life on his lips. “When did you get so sassy?”

“You’re lying if you say I wasn’t before.”

“You’re right. I meant, when did you get so loud?”

Jean smiled tiredly. He leaned closer to Neil and for a moment, there was nothing but them and the silence of the cell. This, at least, was something Neil could handle. Something he knew well. He’d spent most of his life with Jean like this—supporting and being supported.

Neil appreciated Jean more than anything else in the world, but he wished he didn’t have to. He wished they could just be free, for once.

_“You have to stop Tetsuji first.”_

Riko’s voice floated back into existence and Neil straightened. Jean’s questioning look lasted only a second before he realized what was happening. “How?” Neil asked. “I need to know how to escape. Where are we?”

 _“You’re at the Capitol. Where you were always meant to go.”_ Riko’s sarcasm was obvious, even without a visible expression. _“It’s secure. When you make a break, it will have to be planned. Careful.”_

“Fine. How do we do it?”

_“We can blind them, temporarily. So long as you have the drug in your body, you won’t be able to use your power. As soon as it wears off, you can let it out at once, and I will amplify it. The burst will be enough to buy you time to make a break for it.”_

“How long for the drug to wear off?” Neil asked, dreading the answer.

Riko was quiet for long enough that Neil thought he might have disappeared again. _“One day, at least,”_ he finally answered. _“They will use the day to try and extract all they can from you. Then, they will kill you.”_

It was simple. Simple, and dangerous. There was no room for failure. If Neil didn’t escape when Riko tried to help him, he would be stuck, and the Capitol would have no more use for him. He would be killed, and Jean would be left alone. Even Riko would probably be discovered.

“Okay. What about Jean? Will they drug him until they’re done with me?”

_“Yes. Tell him to allow it. We can help him burn some of it out before you make an escape.”_

Jean tapped his fingers against Neil’s hands. “So? Does he have a way?”

“Yes. He does.”

☆

It was becoming easy to tell what was a dream and what was real. In the dreams, Riko was more solid. He was still pale, but he had hard edges.

“Can you tell me now what you are?”

He wasn’t in a cell, this time. The room Neil stood in was stately; the bed was enormous, and the drapes were velvet. Everything had a sheen of gold and opulence. There was a closet open in the corner, silks and the rich hues of varying fabrics spilling out from within.

Riko looked out of place. It wasn’t the richness of the room he was ill-suited to—rather, it was the presentation. Everything was too decadent and ostentatious. Riko sat on the bed in a fine black silk shirt that hung past his knees and nothing else.

His feet were dirty, and his hair was wet. He looked as if he had been dug out of a grave and taken back to the bedroom.

“When a Star falls, it has a human body.” Riko crawled toward the center of the bed. The movement was disjointed from his words. Like he was replaying a memory as he tried to explain to Neil.

Neil almost felt as if he was peering into an intimate scene. Something he had no right to see.

Riko sat back, his legs bent at his sides and his hands pressed into the mattress before his body. “It stands to reason that it is possible for a Star and a human to have a child.”

“That’s not—”

It wasn’t impossible. The word died on Neil’s tongue. _I’ve never seen it, but that doesn’t make it wrong._

Riko laughed. The action transformed his face from something regal to something far more childish. Something that revealed how young he was. He was looking somewhere else—at an invisible person, maybe, that he could see at the foot of the bed. He leaned forward, his shirt hiking awkwardly around his thighs while he rested his chin in his palms.

“It used to happen. A long time ago, when Stars only accidentally fell. Sometimes, they would find someone on earth. Someone that made falling worth it.”

Riko looked at nothing the way Neil imagined some people looked at the Stars. Wondering, romantic, at peace.  “Their children weren’t Stars. Weren’t human,” Riko said quietly. He was smiling. “They were celestial, in a way. Brighter. Faster. Long-lived.”

“And they could shatter?” Neil whispered.

Riko reached out into nothing. Touched the empty air before him and paused, longing. Neil almost turned away. It felt wrong to look in on this memory. It twisted a knot in his chest when he thought about how Riko might have been happy, once. How he might have had a chance.

The memory was ending. Riko’s smile was softer. His eyes closed. He answered in a whisper, “Yes. They could shatter. And they could feel every moment of a human death.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've never thought about Riko's mother, but for maximum angst, I imagine she died in childbirth and never wanted the role she was given as helping to produce an heir. Sometimes I imagine that the reason Ichirou is more patient and calm is because he had a few years with her.  
> I hope this has helped clarify a lot! The only bits of information left will be in the next chapter, but from here, you should have all you need to know what's been going on.


	12. Ebony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The truth unravels for Andrew, but it makes little difference. He has a debt to settle and no time to wait.  
> At least, that's what he tells himself.

When the dust cleared, Neil and Jean were gone. Andrew watched the city settle, rubble scattered on the ground, and wondered how the Ravens had retreated so quickly and silently.

Neil would never have fought it. Not because he didn’t care, but because Jean had already been taken first. _Where one goes, the other follows. How long has it been like that?_

“We knew this would happen,” Kevin said raggedly. He was out of breath and smudged with dirt.

“That doesn’t mean we have to accept it.” Jeremy shoved his hair away from his face. It had been tied, but whatever he used to keep it out of the way had loosened during the fight. For once, he looked grim and determined. It wasn’t like him.

None of this mattered, though. There was something else far more pressing to take care of.

Andrew walked up to Kevin and prodded him into a corner. Kevin immediately glanced away, as if he thought Jeremy or anything else could save him. “No, no. Look at me,” Andrew said quietly. “You remembered something, didn’t you?”

“Kevin?” Jeremy lingered close by, a furrow between his brows. Andrew ignored him.

Kevin bit at his lip reflexively. It reddened as he concocted a reply. Andrew’s fingers twitched. _He shouldn’t be thinking. He should be talking._ Andrew pressed his dagger into Kevin’s side.

“I—I’m not sure what I remembered. Or if it was a memory,” Kevin said defensively.

“Why don’t you let me decide.”

Jeremy moved. “Hey—”

“Don’t.” Andrew pointed in his direction without turning to look.

“It was…a name. A person,” Kevin explained. He tugged at his sleeves with his curled fists, as if he could hide himself in his shirt.

“I remember. Riko.” Andrew narrowed his eyes. _The second son._

It was hard not to know about the Capitol, especially when you spent what was supposed to be your life in service to the place. Andrew knew the family that ruled—the Moriyamas, with their strange darkness and secrecy. Kengo, whose reign had been relatively quiet until his death. Tetsuji, the current Emperor and the only member of the family that had been spotted outside of the Capitol.

Riko was not allowed outside of the Capitol. Either he was too important, or he was too dangerous. Whatever the truth, Andrew had never cared about him. He was just another name and face that Andrew had never met.

But apparently, Kevin had. _And how does Neil know?_

“He’s dead,” Kevin said shortly. “I—I saw it.”

Jeremy came closer. This time, Andrew ignored him. If Kevin needed comfort that badly, he could have it, so long as he kept talking. There was no time to mourn a death that he had forgotten about. Not when the Ravens had taken their Stars.

_Ours?_

“What do you mean?” Jeremy carefully slid a hand over Kevin’s shoulder. “Start from the beginning.”

“I don’t know the beginning,” Kevin said, frustrated. “I just know that I saw it happen. I saw Riko die, and I saw Tetsuji stand over his body. But even before that…I saw Tetsuji kill Kengo.”

Jeremy froze. “You saw…”

“I did.” Kevin’s hands curled at his sides. “I don’t know why—”

“Why is obvious,” Andrew interrupted, agitated. _Of course. Of course, this is all one family. All one mess. When is it not?_ “He wanted power. That’s all.”

“This doesn’t explain why he’s after Jean and Neil. Even if Neil’s father is a Giant, that doesn’t mean he’s powerful,” Jeremy murmured. “And it doesn’t explain why so many Stars have been taken. He can’t know that Jean and Neil suspect anything about the drugs, and even if they did, it would be easy to wait for them to come to the Capitol. Drug them there or lie.”

“This isn’t about them. Not them specifically, anyway.” Kevin shook his head, brow wrinkled in concentration. “There’s something I’m missing. I just…I can’t reach it.”

 _So, Kengo killed the Emperor and his youngest nephew._ “That still leaves Ichirou,” Andrew muttered. “If he isn’t part of this already.”

“We need help.” Jeremy brushed Kevin’s hair back. He looked like he was checking for injuries. Andrew almost laughed. _You’re both Stars. You don’t get hurt that easily, do you?_

Andrew wondered what the Capitol did to punish Stars. He wondered what was happening to Neil. If he was any use to them, or if his mouth had gotten the better of him. Maybe he’d already talked his way into his grave.

The thought should not have bothered Andrew as much as it did. _It’s give and take,_ he told himself. Only a matter of wanting to pay Neil back. They weren’t even yet. Neil owed him answers. Even besides that, Andrew needed to pay him back for the drugs. Neil needed to pay him back for the clothes.

An unbidden memory came to Andrew in a sharp flash. Neil tugging at the collar of a too-big shirt as he followed Andrew and Kevin around the town, wary and tense.

Andrew had thought, _I don’t want to look at him like that,_ and he’d gone to Dietrich.

_But it shouldn’t have mattered. I shouldn’t have spent my money on him._

“Wymack,” Kevin finally said. “He knows something. Any chance we might have of getting them back is through him. The Foxhole is close to the Capitol, anyway. We’ll stop by and speak to him first.”

“It’s a plan.” Jeremy’s gaze shifted to Andrew. He was smarter than some people gave him credit for. He knew when to stay back and when to avoid confrontation with Andrew. He also knew when to prod. “I don’t think we can do this alone. We may need help.”

“Maybe.” Andrew thought about Renee. _She’s a Star, too. Is she even safe?_ If it came to it, he knew she could protect herself—but it wasn’t Renee he was thinking of. It was Allison. If someone took Allison, Renee would follow. “We won’t know until we speak to Wymack. We’re wasting time already. Let’s go.”

Andrew turned on his heel and started toward the stables. The dust in the air clung to his throat and no matter how much he swallowed, he couldn’t get past the rock lodged in his airway.

He could still see Neil falling to the ground, starlight dim beneath his skin. _All that fighting, and it took one drug for him to fall. The Ravens shouldn’t have played dirty. They’ll regret it._

☆

Wymack already looked exhausted when he opened the door to the Foxhole. “Come in,” he said, as if there was a choice. “But I won’t talk until you eat.”

Outside, it was wet and cold. The rain had started almost as soon as Andrew had left the last city. Jeremy and Kevin had seemed perfectly fine huddled together on horseback. Andrew hadn’t even noticed the chill. He hadn’t felt warmth in a while.

Other than the glow. That feeling Andrew couldn’t get rid of—the way it had felt when Neil held his hand and healed him. Sometimes, Andrew looked down at his hand and imagined it was redder. More alive. Warm.

The Foxhole was mostly empty. The few cloaks at the door spoke to the other Hunters that were probably asleep this late, but Nicky wasn’t around. Jeremy had mentioned on the road that Nicky was looking for help. From whom, Andrew wasn’t sure. He certainly wanted to find out.

“We can’t wait much longer,” Kevin finally said. He pushed his plate away; it was already empty. He ate fast, like he did most things that weren’t strictly business. _Unless Jeremy’s involved._ “I don’t know what they’ll do to them, but it won’t be good. Especially not if Tetsuji is involved.”

“Bastard,” Wymack muttered. It was almost like the answer to a familiar prayer. He shoved his chair away from the table and rose to pace slowly. Andrew was tempted to throw a knife at him and make him sit. “I’m surprised you figured out he was involved.”

“I remembered,” Kevin said quietly. “What do you know?”

Wymack shrugged. “He has something that’s helping him track Stars before they fall. I don’t know what. But he’s been herding them like Kengo never did.”

“Have you spoken to Renee?” Andrew asked, leaning back in his chair. He looked for any reflexive responses in Wymack, but the man didn’t seem to be hiding anything.

“I did.” Wymack sighed. “She’s just fine. The thing is, I think Tetsuji is wary of going after those of you that made it out on leashes when Kengo was in charge. Whatever the old Emperor’s ideas were, they weren’t like Tetsuji’s.”

“Kengo had class,” Andrew murmured. “Tetsuji doesn’t. Younger son complex?”

Kevin seemed horrified by the statement. He looked away from Andrew quickly and crossed his arms, fingers impatiently tapping his arm as he looked at Wymack. “Why is he so interested in Neil and Jean? They’re new. They don’t know anything.”

Wymack shrugged helplessly. “If they saw from the sky, maybe he wanted to shut them up before they could talk.”

“No. That’s a weak excuse.” Andrew closed his eyes. Retraced every word Neil had said. Every unspoken act.

_Why did he heal me?_

The question resurfaced suddenly. It was entirely unhelpful, but it stuck and echoed while Andrew tried to come up with an answer. _Why did he help? After what I did?_ Most people wouldn’t help. Neil was even less likely to go out of his way—after all, his only concern was Jean. He wanted to get as far away from humans as possible. He should have ignored the injury and bolted in the night. Or any other time.

_So, why did he?_

The door to the Foxhole slammed open. Kevin jerked sideways in his seat, one hand already going for his sword. Andrew didn’t bother. He could hear the footsteps.

Renee and Allison came in, their hair and clothes wet from the rain. Renee’s shimmering glow played across the ends of her hair in a multicolored rainbow, soft and twinkling. There was an agitated energy to the way she quickly crossed the room and came to stand next to the table.

“What are you doing here?” Wymack tensed. “Did they come for you?”

“No.” Renee glanced around the collected people, shifting her cloak back into place. “I spoke to Aaron. He’s fine, Andrew,” she answered, before he could ask. “He’s been asked to the castle. I assume for Neil and Jean.”

“When?” Andrew leaned back in his chair. _How much time?_ _There’s never going to be enough._

There were never going to be enough jobs to help him save Nicky or Aaron. That was the point.

Renee sighed and ran a hand through her tangled hair. “Tomorrow morning. I’m not sure how long they plan on interrogating Neil and Jean, or who’s first. They just need Aaron’s skills.”

“He’s our only way in,” Kevin said.

“I know what you are thinking,” Andrew replied. “You are sorely mistaken.”

“Andrew, there’s no other—”

“Find another way.”

Kevin’s mouth pressed into a thin line. “There is no time. He doesn’t need to fight, just—”

“No.”

That was it. Kevin threw his hands up but let the argument die, his feet tapping on the floor with pent-up energy. Renee sighed; Allison pulled a chair out for her and they sat, rain dripping quietly from their cloaks and onto the wood floor.

Jeremy finally spoke. “I don’t know what Kengo is planning, but we can’t leave Neil and Jean there. We can find others to help. Even if we take them and run, at least we’ll have them. We can plan to go back later—”

“And if there are too many of them? We haven’t even considered the Ravens,” Andrew pointed out. “They won’t be a problem for us, but they could kill them while we try to attack.”

“And Tetsuji has the darkness,” Kevin whispered.

The room was silent. Andrew waited and then said, “What the fuck is the darkness.”

There was no time to answer. There were pounding knocks on the door and it shuddered in its frame. Wymack held a finger up, tense. He carefully made his way to the door and slid a panel to the side, one hand inching toward the weapons by the door. “Yes? Can—”

Andrew curled a hand around one of his daggers when Wymack suddenly jumped back and swung the door open.

Of all the people, he had not counted Seth among those he expected to be at the door.

Kevin stared, confused, and rose halfway out of his chair. “What are you—”

“So, how long have you been diplomatically discussing what you’re going to do about it?” Seth asked mockingly. Despite the grating tone, Andrew could see telltale signs of restlessness in his movements. He was unsettled.

Something about the way Seth moved reminded Andrew of Neil talking to himself. _He never told me what it was he was doing._

Renee was the first person to speak. “Why are you here, Seth? I thought you were still off duty.”

“I am.” Seth yanked his cloak off and jumped over the bar. He snatched a glass and filled it with water, downing half of it before he spoke again. “I can see Kevin getting mixed up in this. Andrew, though? Must have been some Star to knock you on your ass.”

Andrew was tempted to throw a knife at Seth, but he had a feeling that Seth knew something he hadn’t said yet. _After he finishes, then._ “I assume you’re going to enlighten us, once you stop stroking your—”

“Okay,” Wymack interrupted loudly. “Answers, now. We’re on the clock.”

“Kengo is killing Stars to prolong his life,” Seth said shortly. “Killed his brother, then his younger nephew. Older nephew has been on the run. Oh, and he figured out how to shoot Stars from the sky. He’s got shit aim, though. He tried to hit Neil’s father and knocked Neil and Jean out instead. Is that enough?”

“His—wait,” Kevin managed, his words choked. “He’s giving himself _life_? With—?”

 _The healing._ Andrew shoved his plate further away and curled his hands around the edge of the table. From the way Seth looked at him, he assumed Seth knew just why Andrew was angry.

“And how is it _you_ know?” Andrew asked quietly as he rose from his chair. “I heard a Star knocked you on your ass.”

Seth didn’t immediately answer. It was the only way Andrew could distinguish before from after, with Seth. He’d been more of a bastard, before. Harder. He’d been combative and rough and being a Hunter had just served to make him worse than he already was.

Now, Andrew recognized something in the way Seth looked at him. He didn’t like that.

“No. Not a Star.” Seth looked away, already fastening his cloak again. “Kengo is going to kill them both, once he has what he wants from them. You have one day at most.”

One day.

“Sleep.” Andrew stood abruptly. He could feel eyes pivoting toward him, but he ignored them. “Leave in the morning.”

Almost on instinct, Andrew looked for Neil. A second after he did, he curled his hands around his daggers and made his way upstairs, to the bedrooms.

 _We will find them,_ he thought. _In one piece or otherwise._

☆

The Foxhole was quiet when Andrew left. He paused just outside the door, his reflection clear on a window across from him.

Andrew never questioned the black pit in his eyes. The reaching tendrils that bled from his pupils. _The Stars,_ he’d been told. _They affect the human body._ _You cannot stay with them long. They will kill you. Radiation._

Radiation. Except Andrew remembered when Neil had healed him, and it hadn’t felt like radiation. It hadn’t felt poisonous or burning hot. It felt good.

_Maybe I just wanted it to._

Andrew turned toward the stables. He’d brought Neil’s horse with him for the practicality of it—if they found him intact, he would need it. Andrew’s was pale white, with eyes black like his. Neptune. They had been together for some time, and Neptune knew him better than some people. Neil’s horse was different; the energetic golden stallion was already swaying when Andrew came close. Neil had called it Nerites. He’d whispered the name one night when he thought Andrew wasn’t listening.

“I have a debt to repay,” Andrew murmured. The stallion shifted impatiently.

Andrew left an apple for Neptune in silent apology. It felt wrong to leave him behind, but it had to be done. He was bringing Neil back, but Andrew would not make the trip back with him.

This late at night, no one was awake. Even the farmers hadn’t risen to do their duty. Andrew passed through empty streets and wide plains, unhindered by questioning eyes. He reached the inner city before long, and the walls of the Capitol were just within reach.

He should not have stopped, but something drew him toward the Hunters’ lodge near the gates. He brought Nerites to the front and left him tied there, quietly swinging the front door open.

Bee was awake. She held a mug in her hands, and there was another across from her on the bar. She smiled halfheartedly when she saw Andrew. “I hoped you wouldn’t have to do things this way.”

“That was your mistake.” Andrew paused, biting the edge of his tongue. Bee didn’t seem bothered by the reply. She slid the mug on the bar closer to him, unhurried.

The chocolate reminded Andrew of Neil, sitting at the table early in the morning. The starburst scar beneath his left eye and the hazy glow emanating from under his skin. _I may not have ever known anything about him._ Neil had kept secrets. Secrets about his power, and maybe even secrets about what he’d seen.

_Maybe he saw me before I ever saw him._

Andrew took the mug and tilted it a little too quickly. The hot liquid splashed onto his chin and he wiped at it agitatedly. He didn’t want to say what was on his mind, so he settled on something else. “You’re up.”

“I knew.” Bee leaned forward on her arms. There was clear resignation in her eyes; Andrew hadn’t expected her to fight, but it was good to see there would be no argument. “What’s your plan?”

“Go in. Release them.”

Bee paused with her mug halfway to her mouth. “That’s not a plan, Andrew.”

 _I know._ Andrew ran a finger along the rim of his mug. “I didn’t plan to do it.”

“Then why are you? You have no obligation to go alone.”

“I am trusted.” Andrew closed his eyes for a moment. _Not the truth._ He and Bee had an agreement. He tried again. “I have to settle the debt between us.”

“Wouldn’t going with the others still settle it?” Bee sipped more of her chocolate. “And it would ensure you’d be able to settle it.”

 _It would ensure you wouldn’t die,_ she meant. She was right, as usual, but—

— “I don’t want to wait.”

Bee quietly set her mug down. She was probably cheering inside. She was always telling Andrew to _say what you want. Acknowledge it._ As if he ever wanted anything.

But he did. This, he did.

“You care a lot, to try and do this. You have a choice, and you are choosing this.”

Andrew stared into his mug. He was well aware of his choices. _When they find out what I am doing, they will restrain me. They might kill me. I have no use to them. Not like the Stars._

He was not trying to die. He was not unaware of his position. Andrew knew what would happen and he knew that he would fight. He knew there was a chance he could make it out, just like there was a chance he would die.

“I don’t have time to see Aaron.” Andrew rose from his chair, tugging his gloves up. “Tell him not to go in tomorrow.”

Bee’s hands curled around her mug again. She might have been taking comfort from the warmth, or maybe she was just preparing for the cold rush of air when Andrew opened the door. “I will,” she promised. “Don’t forget you’re seeing me next week.”

_If you live._

“I will.”

He didn’t say goodbye. There was no point.

☆

There was a man Andrew didn’t recognize at the gate. He stepped aside and waited. The gate wouldn’t allow anyone but specific Hunters and residents through.

Andrew made it without an issue. The moment he passed through, it eliminated the biggest obstacle. If no one had thought to revoke his rights to the city, it meant he was still trusted. There would be no issue getting into the Castle. It would just be a matter of finding Neil and Jean.

The Castle loomed in the center of the city. The black marble seemed to soak up every trace of sunlight. It seemed to exist in the way that holes did—it was a void, and because there was nothing, there was something. Andrew slowly rode up to the front gate where a guard waited silently. He dismounted and passed the reins to the man, eyes fixed to the imposing front doors.

Someone was at the door. Andrew didn’t recognize her at all. She had a crimson smile that was sharp at the edges. There was laughter in her eyes that Andrew didn’t trust.

“We expected you. Not many Hunters would chase a Star,” she said. There was laughter in her voice, too. Like she knew some secret joke.

Andrew ignored her and continued toward the door. “I am not chasing it.”

The entrance hall was vast and just as dark as the exterior. Andrew had only been inside the Castle a handful of times, and it had been years since his last visit. There was never a reason to go inside, and he had no interest in the place. It was a black maze of sharp edges and whispering corridors. He felt watched inside, and that did not sit well with him.

The woman smirked as she turned to follow him. She kept a step ahead, obviously leading him somewhere. It wasn’t the throne room that he remembered; they made their way down a winding staircase, descending lower into the Castle. _Are they taking me to them? Why?_

The woman opened a door into a small room. There was door at the far end, but it didn’t hold Andrew’s attention. His eyes were drawn instead to the walls.  There were instruments everywhere, gleaming and silver. He couldn’t discern what they were for, but he knew well enough what was in the center of the room. It was a clear glass container, seamless and thin. There was dancing light within, and the glow was fractal and multicolored.

_Starlight._

A man stepped out from shadow at the corner of the room. He wasn’t there before; Andrew knew that. The man appeared from nothing and his cloak rippled silently around him. _Tetsuji._

“You were expected.”

Andrew paused. There was likely a reply that Tetsuji expected, but Andrew didn’t care what the man wanted. “I have never failed to deliver a Star. I was not content to let this be the first.”

Tetsuji nodded. He didn’t seem to be paying any attention to Andrew’s explanation. He slid gloves off his hands and slid them onto the table that held the globe. “We must speak. But first, I will allow you a moment to see them. We’ve made interesting discoveries. It will help you to understand.”

 _It might be a trick._ Andrew considered Tetsuji’s words as the man went to unlock the door at the end of the room. _He is going to tell me something. Maybe I can distract him long enough for the others to get here._

If Andrew couldn’t break Neil out himself, he could at least keep Tetsuji busy. He could fight him long enough for someone else to do what he couldn’t.

Tetsuji unlocked the door and stepped back. “Lola will bring you to me when you are done.”

The woman. Andrew passed her by and noticed her smile was wider. _She’s not laughing at me,_ he realized. _She’s laughing at Neil and Jean._

The cells were dark. They weren’t unfurnished; there were beds and a toilet in the corner. It appeared civil—but Andrew knew well enough that what happened once they left the cells was probably the least civil thing possible.

He found Neil first, because Neil was glowing. He was bright with starlight, and his blue eyes shifted with light like opals. He was curled next to Jean on the bed they shared, but the moment Andrew entered, he rose slowly.

Andrew approached the bars. He couldn’t see much past the glow, but there were new scars. New lines on Neil’s right cheek, opposite the starburst he’d fallen with. _Cracks,_ Andrew thought. _Thin lines in a dropped crystal._

“Andrew.” Neil’s hands curled around the bars. His voice was quiet, but he didn’t even look toward the open door and Lola. “What are you doing here?”

Andrew might have been able to say something. He could have explained, or maybe given a vague reassurance.

Instead, he thought of what Neil would do as soon as he was broken out. What he would say when Andrew wasn’t there. _You are an idiot,_ Andrew thought. _And you can’t heal this._

“You should not have trusted me,” Andrew said.

Neil was silent. He uncurled his fingers from the bars and his hands slid away. Andrew couldn’t tell what emotion was behind the blinding light in Neil’s eyes. He couldn’t tell if he had succeeded. If Neil was going to turn away.

Neil whispered, “I believe you.”

Andrew left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bee: if i get him to acknowledge his feelings, maybe he'll admit that he cares about neil  
> Andrew: 'ha bye, gotta go on a suicide mission'  
> Bee: ...you would literally rather die than say it


	13. Flash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neil has nothing left but to try and escape. With Andrew somewhere in the Castle, he's not ready to give up—but he may not have a choice.

He hadn’t expected to see Andrew.

Neil leaned his forehead against the bars, mouth dry. _You should not have trusted me._

“Why is he here?” Jean inched closer, arms tight around his body. “You said he helped you.”

“Yes. That’s what he’s trying to do.” Neil curled his hands tight around the bars of the cell; they smelled like rust. Or maybe that was the dry blood in his nose. “I can’t let him.”

Jean shifted on his feet. “What do you mean?”

Neil glanced over his shoulder. “He’s human. He’ll die.”

“So will you,” Jean whispered, incredulous. “You know what they’ll do—”

“I know. But I’ll make it.”

It was the first lie he’d told Jean.

Lies were not a kindness. They were not better than truth, like some people said they were. Lies were pain, and they were suffering. They were hiding and hurting. A liar was never known, and if you were not known, you did not exist. You were nothing.

Neil was always nothing to everyone. It didn’t matter if he lost himself just for this. For Jean.

Down the hallway, the sound of tapping heels approached. They clacked like metal against dry bones. Neil closed his eyes and curled one hand around his right arm, the edges of the shard beneath his glove ragged.

“You know the plan,” Neil said. “You have to run.”

“I’m not going to leave alone,” Jean insisted, his voice unsteady. “I can’t. Not without you.”

“You have to,” Neil replied sharply. “Don’t let me waste a chance if you aren’t going to take it.”

There were tears in Jean’s eyes. The cornflower blue-gray light in his eyes flickered, watery. “Neil. I can’t.”

Neil pulled his hands from the cell bars. He slid them over Jean’s face instead and wished he could pull his gloves off. Jean was always so cold. He’d been warmer when Neil had first seen him again, after being with Nicky and Jeremy. He was cold through Neil’s gloves, now.

“You can make it,” Neil whispered. It struck him at once that this might be the last time he would ever see Jean. _I will probably die in that room,_ he thought, _or the moment I step out to save Andrew._

“If I don’t want to?”

Jean stared, determined, and Neil almost laughed. “You do. You have a reason to leave. Remember that.”

There was no time left. Neil pulled back quickly and turned toward the bars of the cell. The tapping of the heels was closer.

Lola was smiling when she entered. She’d been smiling the first time she’d appeared, too. She had laughed at Neil’s silent horror, and she had laughed when Neil was taken into a small room and tortured. Lola had frowned when she had been directed to take Neil back. She’d pulled him off the table, rough, and shoved him stumbling down the corridor.

Lola was one of those kinds that ate and ate, even when she was not hungry. She was starved for life, and Lola took from all Stars without distinction.

Except for Nathan. She’d always tried to impress Nathan.

“There you are,” Lola said slyly. As if there was a question. Her smile pulled up unnaturally at the corners, sharp, and her eyes were flat despite her toothy grin. “It’s about that time.”

Neil stepped away from the door while Lola swung it open. He anticipated her anger and acid, but it still threw him off balance when she yanked him by his hair. Neil stumbled out of the cell, his scalp twinging. He would have hissed in pain, but he knew well enough that Lola would enjoy it.

“We’re going on a trip,” Lola sang, cackling as she slammed the cell shut behind Neil. “Aren’t we, Junior? Bet you never thought you’d leave your daddy. That didn’t last long.”

“Bet you thought you would be with him,” Neil growled, despite all warnings telling him not to.

Lola’s smile cracked. She yanked, and Neil felt the air rush past his cheeks as Lola brought his face into her knee. A spike of fire lanced up his nose and his eyes watered. He couldn’t tell if his nose was broken—it would have healed too fast. His light was burning at the surface, loose from a day of interrogation, and no injury would last.

Not unless it was too traumatic and too fast. Neil wondered if he could heal, if they cut off a limb.

“Let’s go,” Lola said, less joyful than before. “This is your last chance, Junior. I hope you make it count.”

Neil ignored Lola as he was dragged along, instead checking the path for any changes since he’d last been taken away. He found the same doors and pathways as before. _Remember them all. Even if you won’t make it through them._

The room Lola pushed him into was a void. It was just as black and featureless as the rest of the Castle, but there was a greater darkness that lingered. Something worse.

“Buckle in, Junior,” Lola whispered. Neil winced as his head slammed back against flat marble. There were cuffs at his wrists and ankles. “I promise this won’t be fun.”

Neil didn’t bother to reply. He needed to bide his time just long enough for the door to be locked, and then Riko would help him escape. _If he would just show up._

The more time that passed, the more uneasy Neil was. He knew Riko would be saving his strength, but he didn’t like the silence he heard and the emptiness he felt. Even one word would have saved him the growing fear gnawing at his stomach.

Lola drew back. Neil could hear someone coming to the door, and he noticed for the first time that there was only one other thing in the empty room.

There was a small table near him, a black cloth thrown over something—or some things—that made it lumpy and awkward.

Neil wasn’t sure what made him realize the truth first. Perhaps it was the table, or maybe Lola’s presence. Maybe the too-dark blackness of the room, or the void he felt taking over everything. Whatever it was, Neil had a second to bite his tongue until it bled before the door swung open to reveal Nathan.

It should have been Nathan that Neil focused on. His concentrated form, everything about him radiating danger and anger. Neil should have worried about Nathan’s hands and the tools that likely lay beneath the cloth-covered table.

Instead, Neil stared at the creeping blackness in Nathan’s eyes, radiating out under his skin, and thought, _Andrew._

_They poisoned him the same way they kill us and turn us into Black Holes._

“Shame,” Nathan said quietly. He was never loud, and that was worse, because Neil never knew when something bad would happen. “You were as useless here as you were in the sky.”

Neil didn’t speak. His mouth was dry, and he could feel a scream congealing in his throat. Nathan paced slowly closer, his hand absently tracing the wall. “Who have you been with?”

For a deadly second, Neil couldn’t find his tongue or an answer. It was enough. Nathan’s hand moved suddenly, and then Neil felt his head jerk painfully as the crack of his skin echoed in the room. Neil could taste blood on his tongue.

“You know better. Answer when I ask you a question,” Nathan said quietly.

“No one,” Neil replied immediately. His voice shook almost imperceptibly. He had no pride when it came to his father; he would not hide his terror. He could not. “A Hunter. Someone who was going to bring me here.”

Nathan uncovered the table. Neil’s fists curled; he forced himself not to pull against his restraints. There was no use, and it would only make Lola laugh.

 _Where are you? Come on, Riko._ Neil held himself still, his body aching with the memory of the last time he’d been in the room. Lola had taken too much pleasure in testing how quickly Neil would heal.

“What are you hiding?”

Neil stopped breathing. Nathan moved closer; his hand curled around Neil’s jaw. He held Neil with a grip that was just on the soft side of shattering, as if he wanted to remind Neil that he could break every bone with just enough force.

“I’m not—”

The rebuttal was broken when Nathan hit Neil again. This time, the pain was biting. Neil felt the inside of his cheek torn ragged only to heal in the blink of an eye, the blood the only thing left of the injury.

Nathan shifted his weight between his feet. His cold, dead eyes flickered over Neil’s face. He might have been searching for something, or perhaps he saw what he wanted to see. Neil had no clue. He only waited for the inevitable reminder on Nathan’s tongue.

“Don’t lie to me,” Nathan said quietly. He spoke as if he wanted you to lean in when you heard him, if only because he would likely have better access to cut your throat. “You are hiding something. What is it?”

Neil choked on the blood in his mouth. He felt it spill over his lips as he tried to form an answer. Nathan turned toward the nearby table, his hands finding something sharp.

“What is it?” Nathan considered the tool before returning it to the table. “You thought you were free, didn’t you?”

“No—”

Neil choked on his words. A scream nearly tore his throat, but he clamped down on the sound. The persistent burn of the knife buried in his shoulder was enough to hold his attention. Nathan twisted, and a small whine of pain filtered through Neil’s gritted teeth.

Nathan watched the blade as he pulled it out, his gaze detached and clinical. “Lie to me again, and I will take your legs.”

Lola grinned and paced around Neil’s side. “I say we take them anyway. They did say to test him.”

Neil wanted nothing more than to reply to her, but he held his tongue. He was not allowed to speak if Nathan had not spoken.

Nathan let the blade of his knife drip on the ground. The soft, persistent echo of blood on the ground scratched at the inside of Neil’s ears. _Riko. Now. We have to do this now._

“So? What are you hiding? Is it a person?”

Neil pressed his lips together. He could say no—it was the truth, in a way—but he didn’t expect that Nathan would like the answer.

“Yes.”

“Good,” Nathan murmured. As if this were a test and there were right answers. He curled his fingers around Neil’s hand and then pulled, suddenly, breaking one of Neil’s fingers with a sharp crack.

This time, Neil had no warning and no time to hold in his pain. He cried out before shutting his mouth, tears rising to his eyes. He could feel every shift and creak as his body mended itself slowly, bone scraping and muscles contracting.

Nathan considered Neil’s hand. “Useful. Very useful,” he said, gesturing to Neil’s finger. “But there comes a point.”

Neil bit his lip. He held no hope that Nathan would hold back. All he could hope was that Riko appeared soon, and they could escape the room to find Jean and get out.

“So, who is it?” Nathan asked. He traced Neil’s other hand with something sharp; Neil didn’t turn to look. “Your Hunter, maybe?”

_Andrew?_

Nathan must have seen the flicker of confusion on Neil’s face. Whatever he held in his hand was shoved through Neil’s palm, and the pain of it was enough to drive Neil’s head forward. If he had eaten, he would have vomited.

 _“I’m sorry,”_ Riko whispered.

“What?” The question left Neil’s lips unbidden, slurred drunkenly through the pain. Nathan twisted the scalpel buried in Neil’s hand.

Riko stood behind Nathan, unmoving. There was something more substantial about him. As if his edges were firmer. _“I’ll try. I don’t know if we have enough for him.”_

Nathan was too much. Neil knew it, and he wanted to say as much. They had planned for someone—anyone—other than Nathan. They had not planned for a Star eater. For a wolf of constant famine, sinking his teeth into everything and ripping it apart.

Riko shook his head. _“I’ll break if I need to.”_

“Don’t—”

Nathan drew the scalpel out. It was buried again in Neil’s thigh. Neil could not keep track of his voice anymore; he wasn’t sure if he was screaming or if Lola was laughing. Maybe he was the one laughing. Maybe she was screaming. Maybe it was all just noise, or the voices of other Stars echoing from the corners of the room.

Maybe the others had left dust behind, and Neil could hear their voices telling him he would die.

 _“I don’t have anything anymore,”_ Riko said, choked. _“Use me. Give me up. Let me do this for you.”_

“No,” Neil whispered.

Riko was right beside him. _He doesn’t look so old,_ Neil thought. _He looks like me._ Like a child, or someone that wanted to be somewhere else. Someone that had a thing to wish for. A light to look toward.

 _“I was never good enough,”_ Riko whispered. _“Let me be good enough for you.”_

Nathan had something in his hand. A cleaver. He reeled back, his expression as flat as it had been when he’d first walked in.

“You could never run,” Nathan said. “But we will see if you can grow your legs back, once I have taken them. And then I will take your hands, so you cannot fight.”

No amount of preparation was enough to face this. Neil watched the edge of the cleaver gleam silver and he saw his life reduced to the blade. His face staring back at him from its reflective surface, blue glow humming beneath his skin. If he let it out any more, he would break.

Nathan swung, but the cleaver never reached Neil.

He could hear his name.

Neil heard his name, but instead of anger or triumph, it was fear. It was not Riko, either.

Neil heard his name and then the room was filled with a blinding light, red-gold and permeating. The rose hue bled into everything, but there was no violence in the shade. It even felt sweet, like strawberries in the summer or a kiss—

—and Neil should not have known what those things would feel like, but he imagined the field he’d stood in with Andrew as they stood outside a city, and he wanted to cry.

 _I want him,_ Neil thought, his hands shaking in their restraints. _I want to see him._

The light receded, and Neil blinked. His face felt hot and the world was swimming through his eyes.

In the center of the room was a man. He was tall, with bright, strawberry-blond curls. As he turned, Neil saw familiar freckles on the man’s face. Blue eyes just a shade grayer than Neil’s. The same nose. The same jaw, a little more rugged with age and stubble.

A sound escaped Neil’s lips—the noise of a wounded bird, unsteady and ringing. He knew this man, though he didn’t know his body.

“Neil,” Stuart whispered. His hands slid over Neil’s restraints; they burned and crumbled slowly, falling away and leaving Neil to sag into Stuart’s arms.

Neil could not hold himself upright. Not yet. He breathed in the light that Stuart radiated—a warmth Neil hardly remembered. Stuart’s hand threaded through his hair, careful. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Neil.”

“How long has it been?” Neil whispered. _Centuries? Decades? Eons?_

Stuart held him closer. “I should have come the moment I knew you were here.”

Neil blinked to clear his eyes. He could see Nathan and Lola in his periphery, bodies dull and unmoving on the floor. They were not immortal.

They had no chance against Stuart. Against the brightness of his starlight.

“How are you here?” Neil realized. He pulled back enough to examine Stuart, fully, for the first time.

He didn’t look like he had fallen. He was whole, and instead of a shimmering trail wrapped around his body, he wore something odd and diaphanous. The sleeves of Stuart’s tunic dragged low, and the fabric held trapped discs that shimmered with shifting rainbows of color.

“I had to come.” Stuart tilted his head toward the ceiling. “There was nothing for me there. Especially not with you here.”

Neil’s hand curled in Stuart’s sleeve. “But you can’t go back.”

“Maybe not,” Stuart replied quietly. “But I won’t say it’s impossible just yet.”

_“You need to go.”_

“Riko,” Neil realized. Riko’s form flickered in the corner, a mirage weakened. “What about your—”

“He’s in so many pieces,” Stuart said, shocked. Neil opened his mouth to ask how Stuart could see, but he felt Stuart’s hand on his arm and knew the shard was exposed. Stuart could see because he was touching it. “What—”

 _“You have to go,”_ Riko repeated. _“Quickly. They have Jean. Down the hall.”_

Neil didn’t wait for more. He sprinted to the door and threw it open, racing toward the end of the hall. His body ached with the energy of healing, but he ignored it as he desperately prayed he wasn’t too late.

Stuart’s hand prompted Neil to move aside. There was flash of light and then Stuart kicked the door open just enough for them to enter. Neil scrambled inside, heart in his throat.

There was panel like the one Neil had been held to in the center of the room. Before it was a clear orb, flickering light shining from within. _Starlight,_ Neil realized, horrified. He didn’t wait to see how it worked; he jumped to help Jean, energy burning from his hands without a second thought as he broke the restraints.

Jean was breathing raggedly when Neil freed him. Neil let Neil collapse into him and took them both back against the wall, sliding down as his body gave out while trying to support Jean. “I’m here,” he promised, heart racing from the run. “I’m here.”

“They didn’t get you,” Jean gasped. His hands scrambled to find Neil’s body as if he was checking for missing pieces. “They were going to—they said you would—”

“Shh.” Neil curled his hand in Jean’s hair, squeezing his eyes shut until they hurt. _I can’t waste time._ “I don’t have time. You need to go.”

“I already told you no,” Jean said, louder than he’d spoken before. “I won’t. I will not leave you here.”

“No one is leaving,” Stuart agreed. He knelt by them, his hands sliding over their necks. Neil felt Jean twitch before Stuart’s light flooded them, warm and reassuring. The energy was sweet on Neil’s tongue, and it felt like a good memory. “Whatever you must do, you will not do it alone.”

“It’s not safe,” Neil argued. “I don’t want anyone to die for—”

“This is for more than you,” Stuart said quietly. “There are more that have died. Let us help.”

 _No._ He wanted to say it. Neil wanted to shove them both out a window and pray they went far from the Castle. He wanted Jean to stay safe, and he’d only just found Stuart again. _I don’t want anyone to die for me._

More than anything, Neil knew he was selfish. He only wanted to stay and find Andrew.

Andrew, who had come to convince Neil that he was not worth saving. _You should not have trusted me._

Neil knew that. He knew it more than anyone. He should not have blindly trusted anyone, from the moment he’d fallen to Earth. But he’d found people he couldn’t help trusting, and he had found people he wanted to help. Neil had watched Andrew fight for him and Kevin and the future he wanted, and Neil had thought, _I trust him._

“You shouldn’t have to help me,” Neil whispered. It was all he had left to argue. “This is my choice. My mistake to make.”

“And it’s ours, too,” Jean said shortly. “And something tells me we’re not the only ones that think so.”

Neil jerked his head sideways just as he heard footsteps pound down the hallway. As he looked, he saw a group of people sprint through the corridor in the distance. Kevin, Jeremy, Nicky, Seth, and others Neil didn’t immediately recognize.

Someone that looked exactly like Andrew.

“I think that’s our cue,” Stuart said, smiling. He stood and offered his hands to Neil and Jean, a twinkle in his eyes. “Now, how about we bring the Castle down?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> three chapters to go...


	14. Reform

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andrew faces what he believes is the end. Unfortunately, as usual, Neil and the others will not leave him in peace.  
> For once, he thinks he might find peace with them.

If he had even remembered it, Andrew did not think the throne room would have looked the same.

Tetsuji’s reign had changed much about the Capitol. The throne itself remained the same. It was a hulking mass of black stone and sharp edges, the polished surface gleaming darkly. Andrew could have seen his reflection, if he was close enough.

From this distance, he could only see his patience wearing thin.

The woman that had led Andrew into the throne room departed. Andrew was left alone with Tetsuji, whose unworried expression left much to be desired.

Tetsuji’s cloak draped from his shoulders. It was a darkness that Andrew had never been able to place. Kengo had not worn it often; it was a symbol of danger and quiet decisiveness. Kengo had known when to use it.

Tetsuji apparently held no reservations when it came to displays of power.

“So. You were bringing the star here,” Tetsuji began. “Before my Ravens intercepted you, of course.”

“Yes.”

Andrew was practiced in waiting. He was patient, so long as he knew there was some reward at the end of his wait.

Tetsuji leaned back into his throne. It could not have been comfortable, but he betrayed no hint of pain or discomfort. “He has been fallen for some time,” Tetsuji mused. “Longer than most you have delivered.”

“I was waylaid by Jackals. Then your Ravens saw fit to interfere in another city on the way here.”

“Those sound like excuses.”

“They are facts.”

Tetsuji was silent. His right hand raised, and Andrew prepared for a strike, but Tetsuji only raised it far enough to lean his head in his palm. The sedate pose was deceptively calm.

Andrew wondered if Neil had given up on him, and if the others would arrive in time to take him away.

_What will he tell them? Not to look for me, because I am in league with the Capitol?_

“I wonder. Do you think you can lie to me?” Tetsuji’s gaze flickered darkly. There was a shadow in his already-black eyes.

Andrew almost believed it was his imagination. Yet he looked closer, and he saw the faint traces of black under Tetsuji’s skin. They crawled and clung like spiderwebs, black veins thin and persistent. Tetsuji closed his eyes for a moment and tilted his chin, a wave of repulsion and endurance obvious in his features.

 _He is dying,_ Andrew thought.

And even if it did not make sense, he thought, _he is a black hole._

_And so am I._

“So. Who was it that told you?” Tetsuji asked, his jaw working as the black veins slid away from his features.

Andrew considered his options. “No one,” he said. “I found out myself.”

Tetsuji did not speak. For a moment, Andrew thought the man did not believe him. He was prepared for the Emperor to strike, rage and fury ending in darkness.

Instead, Tetsuji’s eyes slid away from Andrew.

The Emperor was weak. He was terrified of his mortality, and even with Andrew right before him, Tetsuji could not see the lies. He was a useless man concerned only with his own survival and power.

Unlike Neil. Neil, who should have thought only of saving his own skin. Neil, who went out of his way to protect Jean over himself and even Kevin, who did not remember him.

 _He is a fool, and he is better off with the others._ _He will keep them safe in my stead._

“They are a poison,” Tetsuji said slowly. Andrew had nearly forgotten he was there. “They give the power that we need, but they radiate sickness.”

“Human bodies cannot handle Stars,” Andrew agreed carefully. “I was warned when I became a Hunter.”

“Human bodies cannot handle them when they are in their solid forms,” Tetsuji corrected. His eyes narrowed. “I do not take them that way.”

“So, you shatter them, and take what they have.”

A mistake. Andrew knew just from looking at Tetsuji. He was not powerful; he had taken in so much energy that it had collapsed, and the weight of what he had done had opened a black pit within his body. All that was left of the man was a hungry darkness that swallowed all the energy he came into contact with.

Tetsuji smiled. The black veins flickered around his eyes and he whispered, “Do you want to know why you are like me?”

 _I am not,_ Andrew could not say.

“You were given power,” Tetsuji said. His smile was an inky slash on his face, jagged and unhinged. “And it consumed you, because you are weak. The Stars you seek are the only things that imitate life for you, anymore.”

Andrew did not speak.

“You are dead,” Tetsuji said quietly, leaning back into his throne. “And you have been since we took you.”

Cold, Andrew thought. A chill in his veins that never moved; a frozen quality to his body that had never thawed. He had always felt so cold.

Except for when Neil held his hand. When Neil fixed his injury, starlight warm as it enveloped Andrew’s broken body.

Andrew might have believed Tetsuji, before. Now, he knew it was untrue. _I am not dead._

He had never felt more alive than the last few days.

“You did not give me power,” Andrew said. “I had no choice.”

Tetsuji laughed. “You had a choice. You chose your brother.”

Andrew stilled. He stepped closer to look Tetsuji in the face, fully attuned to every inch of the Emperor’s face. There was no lie.

“Tell me what I chose.”

Tetsuji rose suddenly. Andrew did not take a step back; he would need it, if he had to protect himself. He wanted answers more than he wanted to kill Tetsuji. He was prepared to hold a knife to the Emperor until he received the truth that he sought.

A single pale finger pointed to Andrew’s throat. “You chose to forget the truth, and you chose to give your life to secure his.”

The pale moonstone at Andrew’s throat held his cloak in place. Only it was not a moonstone, he realized. It was the same star stuff that was poisoning Tetsuji, and it had poisoned Andrew until he was nothing but a black hole of hunger and ice in a human body.

“The bargain to secure his safety that I remember?” Andrew already knew the answer, but he asked.

He needed to hear it.

Tetsuji smiled. “My lie. A bargain to ensure you would remain under my control. It was simple when you did not remember. Simple when you had developed care for some of the very things you were meant to destroy.”

Andrew took a step back. Tetsuji’s grin widened.

“Thank you for telling me what I wanted to know,” Andrew said. “Now, I’m going to kill you.”

Tetsuji’s smile was frozen in place, dark and cracked. “You will not,” he said calmly. “And I will make you forget again. Perhaps this time, you will not be so stupid to love a Star.”

Andrew darted just as Tetsuji flung his arm out, pitch-black cloak rippling with dark energy. It was like a hungry thing, its tattered edges reaching out for prey.

Somewhere in the distance, there was a ringing noise. It was shrill enough that Andrew covered his ears. Tetsuji’s gaze flickered, gone for just a moment as he stared back toward the cells he had left.

 _Neil will be gone by the time this is over,_ Andrew thought. _And one of us will be dead._

Tetsuji drew something from his hip, half of his body obscured by his cloak. It was a black sword he held, the hilt inlaid with fractal colors from shattered Stars.

Andrew could hear them. He could hear their voices, broken words and lost echoes of emotions and beings that had long since been destroyed. The sword was just a pretty casket for pieces of a hundred corpses.

It was disgusting.

Andrew drew his daggers. He darted forward and barely blocked the slice of Tetsuji’s sword. He was fast. Andrew considered the Emperor as he backed away, evaluating.

“Do not prolong the inevitable,” Tetsuji said. “I have killed humans more powerful than you, and Stars more desperate to live.”

Andrew stopped in his tracks. In the second it took Tetsuji to come to a stop, Andrew darted forth again.

The Star voices came in a wave. Tetsuji was suddenly moving, his face a twisted mask of fury as he cut the air. The blade caught Andrew’s head, a sudden burn rising to the surface of his skin.

Andrew slid backward and braced himself, prepared to attack again. He could feel the warmth of his blood trickling down the side of his face, but he did not look or touch it. There was no time to tend to it.

Tetsuji straightened. He sliced the air with his sword and watched with mild interest as Andrew’s blood speckled the floor.

There was a closer ringing. Tetsuji paused and stepped closer to Andrew.

_No._

Something was in the sword, or something else was happening. Andrew could not move properly. His limbs were slow, and he was easily pushed to his knees when Tetsuji’s hand pressed onto his shoulder. Andrew wanted to slice it off.

“You will wait for me,” Tetsuji said. He examined Andrew’s face.

Tetsuji reached for his hip, fingers drawing a dagger from another sheath. He considered it before driving it into Andrew’s shoulder, pushing him into the wall.

Andrew could hear marble cracking.

Tetsuji rose to his feet. “We will continue when I have killed your Star.”

The room echoed with silence as Andrew kneeled. He coughed once, the sound wet as blood escaped his parted lips.

_If I am dead, why do I bleed?_

Andrew blinked. He could hear footsteps approaching, and then he watched Kevin and Jeremy enter with—

— “Aaron,” Andrew said. “You should not be here.”

Aaron skidded to a halt, his expression grim. “Apparently, I should.”

Before Aaron could approach, Andrew raised his voice. “No. Don’t.”

“What is that?” Kevin asked, tense. He kneeled to inspect the dagger in Andrew’s shoulder.

“Something of the Emperor’s. A parting gift. Listen, you—”

Something whistled through the air. Andrew watched as Kevin’s eyes widened, and then he cried out in pain as he slumped against the wall, hissing. Tetsuji’s sword ran through his hand.

“No.” Andrew turned to find the Emperor; the man stood at his throne. “No—”

Jeremy turned to face the Emperor. Andrew could only see half of his face, but it was not pleased.

“Release them,” Jeremy said calmly. “We will speak.”

Tetsuji ignored Jeremy. He stepped down from his throne and fixed Aaron with an unimpressed stare. “I do not understand why he kept you. My father should have killed you and spared the loose end.”

“I don’t understand why he kept you, but I guess we’ve both been disappointed,” Aaron replied evenly.

Tetsuji’s smile flickered to life. “Well, at least you have been entertaining. It will be interesting to see how the other one handles me killing you. After I clear his memory, of course.”

Jeremy moved to act, but Tetsuji was swirling in a sudden mask of black smoke. Aaron watched as the Emperor tore his cloak off and threw it toward the star. The fabric reached out, flickering with unholy life as it enveloped Jeremy.

“No!” Kevin yelled. “Je—”

“Quiet.” Tetsuji gestured toward his sword. It quivered in the wall, a shattering noise emitting from the blade.

Andrew could not move. He watched as Tetsuji approached, something in his hand.

There were other footsteps approaching.

_Neil, you useless Star._

Jean slid into the room. He froze in place, horrified. There was stranger beside him—a man with strawberry-blond curls and shimmering eyes. A Star, and one that looked oddly like Neil.

And then there was Neil. He was ragged, and his clothes were torn, new scars visible on every inch of exposed skin. Andrew hated what he saw. He hated that Neil was there, just in time.

Tetsuji did not look in Neil’s direction. “Good,” he said. “You can watch.”

There was a flurry of voices, and then Andrew heard Neil’s voice, and endless yell of one word.

One name.

Andrew heard his name, and then the room filled with light.

☆

It was warm. The light was warm.

Andrew had not forgotten.

The first thing he was aware of was that he was aware. He was not dead, he assumed, and he remembered. He remembered the last few moments he had been conscious, and the blinding light in the throne room.

Andrew opened his eyes. He was still kneeling, but his body moved when he willed it to. He lifted his hand and found that the dagger in his shoulder was gone, just like the wound that had been there.

There was something in the center of the room.

No. Someone.

Andrew could see him; the vague outline of his body, lithe and delicate. Artful. He had always looked crafted, like someone had taken each of his limbs and lovingly molded them from something shining and beautiful. Star stuff.

Neil took a step toward Andrew. The light was still too bright to see him, but it didn’t hurt. It was a persistent light, the color blue-white as it bounced off the reflective ebony walls. Neil was silent when he walked, as if he was not even there.

_Did he shatter?_

But it couldn’t be, because Neil was right there, and Andrew could see him in sudden detail. He could see the odd, gown-like dress that barely covered his body. He could see the way the sleeves seemed to float on an invisible wind, and the shimmer of Neil’s eyes was so bright that it sparkled through his eyelids.

The Star kneeled before Andrew, pearls of color and light drifting in the blue of his eyes.

“I told you,” Andrew said. _I told you to stay away._ _Save yourself._

Neil smiled. He leaned in and Andrew could feel the warmth radiating from his body as Neil whispered, “I didn’t listen.”

Andrew closed his eyes. Neil was still there when he opened them again, but he still did not believe. He reached out and his hand found the back of Neil’s neck. His thumb pressed against Neil’s pulse—that curious, contradictory thing. The evidence of a heart Neil should not have had.

Neil’s face was soft. Softer than Andrew remembered, when they had been travelling. When every stolen glance had found Neil worried, or tense.

“You are too warm.”

“Are you saying I’m hot?” Neil smiled again. He was close. So close that Andrew tilted his head and felt their noses brush; so close that Andrew could feel the heat of Neil’s breath.

Andrew moved his thumb along Neil’s pulse. Felt the shiver there. “Kiss me.”

“Do you want me to?” Neil whispered.

“Yes.”

Andrew closed his eyes. Lost himself for just a moment in the warmth of Neil’s lips and the impossible starlight that surrounded him. He was in the heavens—he was right on earth, but there was Star before him. He was kissing starlight.

Neil tasted like life.

The glow was withdrawing. Andrew could tell, even from behind his closed eyelids. Neil sighed as he moved away, vaguely melancholy.

“What?” Andrew said. It came out in a mumble; his mouth was still warm.

Neil glanced toward the rest of the room, where the others were frozen in place, arms blocking the vibrant glow that Neil had surrounded them with.

“I want to kiss you again. But I should probably deal with Tetsuji.”

Andrew might have laughed, if he were anyone else. “Yes. You should probably do that.”

Neil reluctantly stood, his hands flexing at his sides.

He didn’t do anything.

Andrew cast him a sidelong glance. “You do know how to reduce this, don’t you?”

“Sorry, that’s the first time I _completely regenerated myself at once_ ,” Neil said dryly.

Neil shook his head and flexed his fingers again. He exhaled quietly, and then the glow receded, drawing back toward his body like an ocean tide.

Jeremy was standing. He had tattered the cloak, it seemed—there were singed holes in the fabric, and he seemed unbothered by whatever had happened. Jean stood next to him, and Kevin was rising to his feet, his hand intact as he stared down at it.

Aaron stood next to the man Andrew did not know, his hesitant gaze sliding between Andrew and Neil.

Tetsuji hissed as he stood. Neil moved to stand before him, chin tilted as he stared up at the Emperor.

“Useless,” Tetsuji said. He spat the word darkly into the air, but Neil was not paying attention.

Neil reached down to gather the only dagger Tetsuji had been left with. He considered it for a moment before snapping it in half, his palms glowing brightly for a moment. “There. Perfect.”

“You cannot kill me,” Tetsuji spat. “I am immortal.”

“Is that a challenge?” Neil asked. Andrew could almost hear him perk up.

Tetsuji lunged.

Neil held a hand out. The brightness that radiated from his palm sparked outward, a brief wall of light knocking Tetsuji back on to the ground. After the Emperor fell, Neil looked down at his hand. “Hm. I will add that to the list.”

“Try to kill me. I will rise,” Tetsuji growled. He was rising to his feet again.

Neil glanced at Kevin. “I think that was a challenge. Would you care to join me?”

Kevin looked up from his hand. A second passed, Tetsuji grinning in amusement and watching the scene unfold. _He is too scared,_ Tetsuji’s face said.

Kevin smiled darkly. “We’ll race for it.”

Tetsuji’s smile shriveled and died. It was wonderful to watch and this time, Andrew did laugh.

The Emperor clung to his throne. His hands curled around its unforgiving stone, and Tetsuji cracked it with the strength of his grip. “You will force me to kill you,” he said, his voice a gravelly mess. “Fine.”

The next time Tetsuji rose, it was Kevin who knocked him back.

It was over, Andrew thought.

Except it wasn’t.

The shadows behind the throne shifted, and Andrew tensed in preparation. He watched as the shape curled and twisted, darkness solidifying into the shape of a leg. A figure stepped out from behind the throne, dark and imposing, high cheekbones and black hair familiar.

“Another one,” Andrew said.

The figure glanced at Andrew, unmoved. Andrew prepared to move, certain that Neil and Kevin could not handle two adversaries at once if the guards came.

The figure took another step forward and then a step onto Tetsuji’s throat.

“I take offense to that,” he told Andrew.

Neil was frowning. There was a flicker of confusion on his face until it morphed into something else. A recognition. “Ichirou?”

 _The first son._ The lost one, Andrew remembered. The one that had disappeared. He was supposed to be dead, like his brother.

“Yes,” Ichirou said. “It seems I am late to the party, as they say.”

“Not exactly,” Kevin said. “We were racing to kill him. Your uncle, I mean.”

“Amazing,” Andrew murmured. “Neil, your stupidity is contagious.”

Ichirou sighed. The darkness around him was different, Andrew noticed. He used it differently—like a fabric, silken and soft. It knotted around Tetsuji’s wrists and ankles.

“I appreciate the offer. But I am afraid there is only one way to end him, and it should be my burden to bear. He killed my brother,” Ichirou added softly. “And I did not do anything.”

Andrew could see Neil’s hesitation. The knowledge he held and the uncertainty of whether he should give it freely.

Neil spoke. “He may not be lost. But that is for another time.”

Ichirou gazed at Neil. “Maybe it is.”

Kevin interrupted. “What way? You said there was only one way to end him.”

“A black hole.”  Ichirou nudged his uncle’s body. “It will consume him faster than he can fight it.”

“Isn’t he—”

“A black hole? Almost. Like me.”

Kevin was quiet for a long moment before he said, slightly unsteady, “You’re going to eat him?”

Ichirou stared back at Kevin. “Yes.”

Silence.

Andrew wondered how far Neil’s idiocy had spread. He was tired of the Castle already, and he was about to turn on his heel and leave.

“I am taking him above,” Ichirou finally said, shaking his head at Kevin’s belief. He lifted his chin toward the sky. “I will take care of him, and then I will return. Perhaps I may still salvage what is left of this place.”

“I will go,” the stranger by Neil said.

“Stuart?” Neil frowned. “If he—”

“He is telling the truth,” Stuart said quietly. “And I will ensure that this happens. The rest of you should return home. Perhaps bathe.”

Stuart’s secret smile was trained on Andrew. _They are related,_ Andrew knew. _They must be._

“Well. It is time, then,” Ichirou said. “As for the rest of you…I will speak to you when I return. Something tells me there are plenty of things I will need to know before I begin anew.”

“You have no idea,” Jean muttered from the corner.

He was not wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> clearly this had to devolve into a meme  
> we are talking about neil and andrew, here


	15. Body

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is over, at least for now. Neil is tired, but he is also content—a feeling he thinks he's going to enjoy getting used to.

“Who is Stuart?”

Neil turned to look at Andrew. He found himself looking at things he probably should not have been so focused on—the pale mess of hair over Andrew’s left eye, the black-laced hazel of his eyes. The swell of his lower lip.

_I kissed him._

It was probably the most surprising thing Neil had done.

“He…” Neil glanced toward the dais, where Ichirou was speaking lowly with Stuart. “Maybe you would call him…an uncle.”

“Uncle.”

“Well,” Neil murmured. “He was more of a father than anyone else could have ever been.”

Andrew didn’t say anything. He watched Stuart and Ichirou silently, and Neil watched Andrew. He looked at the black spiderwebs emanating from Andrew’s eyes and the inviting column of his neck. Part of Andrew’s shoulder was exposed from where Tetsuji’s blade had been buried in it.

Neil wanted to reach out and he almost did—but then he heard footsteps and he turned to see Jean approaching him.

Neil hadn’t allowed himself to think about anything or anyone else, when he had walked in to see Tetsuji. Now, he felt the panic and terror and relief flood over him at once. He threw his arms around Jean and breathed in. He breathed in warmth and familiarity.

“You’re safe,” Neil whispered.

Jean held him tighter. “We both are.”

It should not have been true, but it was. It was reality—their reality. They were safe.

Neil heard someone shift in the distance. Stuart, he thought, probably preparing to return to the sky. Before Neil could pull back, he heard Andrew’s voice.

“What are you? You should be human.”

Jean silently drew away from Neil, though he lingered nearby. He was always right there, Neil thought, even when he was further away. _It’ll be easier to let him go, this way._

Ichirou stared evenly back at Andrew. “There’s not really a name. Half and half, you might call it.”

“Celestial,” Stuart said quietly.

Ichirou glanced at Stuart. His gaze rested a beat longer than it should have, and Neil itched to say something. When Ichirou turned back to face Andrew, there was regret in his expression.

“It means we have part of each kind in us. The timeless quality of a star and the confines of a human body.”

“Kengo,” Neil realized. He could see the pieces assembling slowly, the tangled memories of watching the earth for centuries unraveling in his mind. “You could live as long as your human body was unharmed.”

“But not forever.” Ichirou looked down at his hand, flexing his fingers experimentally. “We are born into human bodies. We have the healing and strength of Stars, but we cannot live as long as them.”

“And when you die, you become just like us when we shatter. A crystal,” Neil said, his hand tracing the shape of the shard still bound to his forearm. “One that can shatter.”

Ichirou smiled humorlessly. “Something like that.”

The room was silent for nearly a minute. Neil stepped away from the dais, his gut twisting. _Riko died a human death, and then he was trapped here. What did he think when he realized he wasn’t allowed to end?_

“Well,” Aaron said quietly. “This has been enlightening. But I think I should let Katelyn know I’m not dead.”

Stuart smiled. He reached down to grab Tetsuji’s prone form, tossing it over his shoulder uncaringly. Neil watched Ichirou pause to stare a moment, his face unreadable.

“Well, then,” Stuart said. “I’ll be watching, so be safe. We’ll return soon.”

Ichirou raised an eyebrow. He turned to look at the assembled group and Neil thought he saw a flicker of something in his gaze—hope, perhaps, or something more fleeting—and then Ichirou nodded.

“See to it that the people are safe. I trust you.”

He hadn’t spoken to anyone in particular. Maybe that was what gave Neil the impression of solidarity. As if it was not just him alone, but everyone he stood with. Even the ones he did not know well.

There was a soft glow that filled the room suddenly, radiating until it was so bright Neil could not see anything beyond it. When the light faded, Ichirou, Stuart, and Tetsuji were gone.

“I’m tired,” Jean announced. “And if there is nothing for us here, I would rather leave.”

Neil stood staring at the dais. The black throne, with its hard edges and cold marble.

He could still heart voices, in the distance. Snatches of words; thoughts, feelings. Neil turned to look toward the cells in the distance, in the same hallway as the room he’d been taken to. The room where his father and Lola had tortured him.

“You go,” Neil said, barely paying attention. His feet were already taking him away. “I’ll be close behind.”

Andrew followed. Neil could hear his almost-silent footsteps; the bare thump of boots against the floor was almost comforting, like a heartbeat.

He was not alone.

That was what Neil told himself, as he drew closer to the place he had nearly died. He knew what he would see, and he told himself to be ready, but Neil still paused in the doorway. He stood staring at the discarded forms. He looked away from Lola and approached Nathan to stare down at the man, appraising.

“I wonder if we had the same color, once,” Neil mused. “The same light.”

Andrew was silent. He came to stand beside Neil, and he looked down at Nathan impassively.

“You look nothing alike.”

Neil laughed. It was quiet and a little broken, but he managed it. “I think that is the first lie you have ever told me.”

Andrew didn’t reply. Neil turned away and left the room, his feet taking him to the thing he remembered. The glass orb, with its snatches of starlight. He approached it slowly, the faint voices echoing in his ears like an ebbing tide.

Neil wondered what would happen when he released the light. If it would be sucked into a black hole somewhere, or if it might find its place in the world around them.

Maybe some of the starlight would stay. Maybe a memory like Riko would stubbornly cling to a flower somewhere, keeping it alive far past its time.

Neil raised his hand. Before he could bring it down, Andrew caught his wrist.

Neil blinked. Andrew’s eyebrow twitched. “You really are stupid.”

“I have to—”

Andrew held up a hammer. It looked like it belonged to the set of tools that had been in the room with Lola and Nathan. “Don’t be stupid,” he said. “For just one minute.”

Neil felt a slow smile curve his lips. “Andrew,” he said. “I think you might worry about me.”

“It is not difficult when you are so stupid.”

Neil took the hammer. His fingers brushed Andrew’s and there was a spark of static—a jump like lightning, jolting Neil’s heart just a little faster.

He wanted to kiss Andrew again.

“Hurry up,” Andrew said quietly. Neil could hear the grit in his tone, and it made him want to laugh. _He’s impatient, too._ “Unless you want to stick around this place.”

Neil lifted the hammer and glanced at Andrew. “Stand back. I don’t want to have to heal you.”

Andrew moved an inch away.

Neil shook his head, a huff of laughter escaping him. He brought the hammer down.

There was a sound like bells, or perhaps glass that had been struck without breaking. It rang clearly, loud and pristine. Something about it was melancholy. Like when Neil had tried desperately to keep his eyes open as he watched Andrew fight, knowing the entire time that they would be separated once again.

 _Oh_ , Neil thought. _This is what parting sounds like._

The light blinked in tiny orbs. Fireflies, Neil thought. They shone in soft colors and dissipated gently, some of them seeking a way out of the room. Other glowing spots faded right where they appeared.

It was done, Neil thought, and he curled his hand around the shard at his wrist. “Riko,” he whispered. “Where are you?”

“Neil,” Andrew said. “I think this is part of him.”

Andrew extended his hand. He held the dagger he’d been stabbed with in it; the hilt was gone, but the blade was intact. Pieces were chipped away and there were veins of metal in the blade, but most of it was a strange crimson so deep it was nearly black.

Neil hesitated when he reached out. He wasn’t sure what he would hear or see.

“You do not have to,” Andrew said quietly.

“I know.” Neil cupped his palm under the blade, certain. “But I want to.”

Andrew carefully released the dagger.

Nothing happened, at first. There was just a quiet hum, and then Neil was blinking in darkness. He could not see anything, and he did not know why—but then Riko was there, his hair wet as he shivered and hunched. There was something heavy and woolen surrounding them.

_“Sorry. I can’t do much better.”_

Seth. It was Seth, Neil saw. He looked a little less ragged, and there was a half-smile on his lips. Riko sat with his knees pulled up to his chest, and he snorted at Seth’s apology.

_“Well, if you could control the weather, I would have a bigger problem than the rain.”_

The shelter of the cloth was dark—it might have been night—but it didn’t feel dark. There was light, though Neil couldn’t tell if it was Riko or the memory. Or something else.

Neil just saw Seth’s crooked smile and Riko’s exasperated gaze, and he somehow felt like this was an escape.

Safety. Even if it was fleeting.

When Neil blinked, it was light again, and Andrew stood across from him.

“You’re crying.” Andrew reached out. His hand wavered and Neil caught it, his hand fitting over Andrew’s and allowing it closer.

Neil sighed when Andrew’s hand rested on his cheek. He could feel the wetness of tears at his eyes.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Neil whispered. “I’m glad I met you.”

Andrew’s head moved an inch, like he wanted to shake it but couldn’t look away from Neil. “You should not be.”

Neil leaned closer. He wanted to be close, suddenly. “I told you,” he mumbled. “I don’t listen.”

Andrew was about to ask, but Neil was already saying _yes_ , and then he wasn’t speaking at all.

It should have been impossible to find safety in a kiss. In a human, or even a Star. Safety was just a thought; it was an idea, and one that was more fantasy than anything else.

But Andrew was not a fantasy, and Neil was absolutely certain of that.

Kissing Andrew felt more real than Neil’s human body. It felt like the truth, too. As if Andrew meant something he couldn’t say, and he was giving it silently, his lips warm on Neil’s.

The echo of the shards in Neil’s hands rang softly. He reluctantly pulled away from Andrew, a little more breathless than he’d anticipated.

“I should look for more.” Neil smoothed his thumb along the shard, the deep crimson glinting in the light emanating from his skin.

Andrew’s hand curled around Neil’s. “Maybe. Later.”

 _Later, after rest,_ Andrew meant. Neil paused and took in the ragged edges of Andrew’s torn clothes; the tousled mess of his hair. “Yes. Later.”

They left the room and the broken glass behind, and Neil wanted to reach out and hold Andrew’s hand. He wasn’t sure if he could—if it was too fast, or maybe too public. But when he opened his mouth, Andrew was already reaching back to take Neil’s hand.

There was something to be said about human bodies and touch. The feeling of contact when Andrew’s fingers tangled with Neil’s.

At the gates of the Castle, there was a figure waiting.

When Neil saw Seth, he wasn’t surprised. Somehow, he had known, and when he approached Seth, Neil already had the shards in his hands.

Seth stared up at the Castle. He was remembering something, like the fragment of Riko trapped in one scene of his life where he’d felt safe. _The only place he felt safe._

So, Neil extended the shards. “I don’t know if you can fix him. But I think you can try.”

Seth watched the shards fall into his palm. His fingers twitched at the contact, and then he curled his hand tightly around them. “I will.”

Neil left him there, following Andrew away from the dark tower at their backs. _I hope he does,_ Neil thought, and he carefully squeezed Andrew’s hand tighter.

 _Safe._ It was a word he was beginning to understand.

☆

The Foxhole was quiet.

Everyone was there, but no one spoke. Exhaustion had set in, and no one could be bothered to speak much.

Andrew had let go of Neil’s hand before they went in. Neil wasn’t bothered; he was surprised Andrew had held it at all. Besides, Neil thought there would be too many questions they wouldn’t be able to answer if someone saw.

Questions like _why_ , which Neil didn’t even know the answer to. Not really.

“Sleep,” Wymack said as soon as they entered. The man stood at the bar, the lines beneath his eyes speaking of a bone-deep exhaustion.

The entire world had collapsed for some of the Hunters. Neil couldn’t fault them for looking like shit.

“Do not disturb,” Andrew said.

Wymack glanced between Neil and Andrew. He clearly wanted to say something, but Neil thought it was obvious enough that the time for the conversation was any time other than right then.

Or maybe that was just his opinion. Neil didn’t think he could withstand an interrogation or lecture. He had a feeling either Andrew would stab someone first, or Neil would end up saying something someone else would regret.

“All right,” Wymack finally said. “You know the room.”

Neil followed Andrew without a question. He didn’t think much of the room situation until they walked up the stairs and into the bedroom.

There was one bed, and Neil could see a bathtub in a small room attached to the suite. _Oh._

“Yes or no.” Andrew stood by the door that led to the tub, one hand lingering near the collar of his torn shirt.

Neil found the answer wasn’t as far as he expected. “Yes.”

Undressing around Andrew did not feel as intimate or dangerous at it could have. As it probably should have. Andrew didn’t look; he saw, but his gaze slid over Neil in a way that felt less like staring and more like acknowledgment.

Andrew looked about as much as he would look at a bookshelf in a room he had entered, and Neil was vaguely amused by that fact.

The water in the tub was hot. Andrew stepped in first, his hand extended in a silent offer. Neil took it and sat across from Andrew, his legs bent to fit the tub.

“This feels nice.”

Andrew rested his crossed arms on his knees and his chin on top of his arms. “Your first, since you fell.”

“I think everything with you has been a first,” Neil said quietly.

“The bad things?”

It was a simple question, said as plainly as everything else. But Neil saw the glint in Andrew’s eyes and the hesitation. _I don’t know how anyone could think he doesn’t care._

_You can see, if you look close enough._

Neil lifted his hand. The question went unasked as Andrew tilted his head into Neil’s touch, careful.

“Some of the bad things,” Neil mused. “Most of the good. Even more of the best.”

Andrew’s fingers curled at Neil’s chin. “Yes or no?”

“Yes.”

It was a faint kiss, but it was all they needed. Neil sighed when he leaned back, and then Andrew took the small cloth at the edge of the tub. He ran it over Neil’s body silently, the same detached clarity as before in his expression as he worked.

 _I was wrong._ It was intimate, in a way, but it was different than the kisses. Softer.

Neil was already drowsy by the time he followed Andrew out of the tub, clumsily pulling on the soft pants waiting on the bed. He ignored everything else and crawled into bed beside Andrew, his eyelids heavy.

“Sleep,” Andrew said. He was facing Neil, his pale hair loose and shining from the bath.

Neil wanted to stay awake and look, but it was hard to keep his eyes open. “You too,” he mumbled. “Sleep.”

“I will,” Andrew said quietly.

It was the last thing Neil heard before he drifted off to sleep.

☆

Neil woke in inches.

One inch to become aware of his body, heavy and well-rested. Another inch to shift slightly, legs stretching as he lay in bed.

One inch to yawn.

One inch to open his eyes slowly, blinking in the dim light as he took in the sight before him.

Andrew’s eyes were closed. He was curled on his side facing Neil, one hand stuck under Neil’s pillow. His hair was a mess, like it usually was when the braid on the side came out.

Neil traced the pale fan of Andrew’s lashes with his eyes and wished he could reach out and touch. He liked the relaxed curve of Andrew’s lower lip and the rosy color.

“Pretty,” Neil whispered. It was a secret he gave willingly, in the twilight of the bedroom.

Andrew didn’t open his eyes. His voice was gravelly with sleep when he muttered, “The only acceptable form of flattery is sugar.”

Neil smiled. He wanted to laugh—

—and he did, the sound coming out a little rusty from disuse.

 _That_ got Andrew to open his eyes.

“Not flattery,” Neil said. He was too distracted by Andrew’s eyes to come up with anything else. “Truth.”

Andrew silently reached out. “Yes or no.”

“Always yes.” Neil smiled when Andrew started to argue. “Always, always.”

It was either too early for Andrew to argue, or he was impatient enough to let it slide. Andrew’s hand was warm when it slid around Neil’s neck, a steady weight that was more grounding than even Neil’s own body could ever be.

Neil had never had a home. Somehow, he thought this might have been what it felt like to have a home. To have something to come back to.

_I could probably stay here forever._

Andrew’s body was warm. Neil felt it in the kiss and the way Andrew’s thumb rubbed a circle on his skin. It was nice. Nicer than the emptiness of the sky, or the distance between light from one star to another.

“You’re glowing again,” Andrew mumbled against Neil’s mouth.

Neil forced his eyes open to see the light humming beneath his skin. “Flattery,” he said anyway. “The only acceptable form is kisses.”

“You have a problem,” Andrew replied, but his voice was rough. Neil was already making his way across Andrew’s jaw and toward his neck.

“Don’t call yourself that,” Neil mumbled distractedly. _Skin tastes good,_ he thought. _Or maybe it’s just Andrew._

Neil did not know exactly what he was doing, but he knew Andrew. He knew how to look and listen. Neil knew when his teeth scraped against Andrew’s neck that it was good; he knew from the sound of hissed breath through Andrew’s teeth and the hot grip of Andrew’s hand on his waist.

“You’re right. It’s a fetish,” Andrew growled.

Neil just laughed. He had a feeling he’d be doing more of that, now.

“You don’t mind. That’s why I like you.”

It was probably too early to say _love_ , or to say anything else. It was morning, and Neil still had too many questions. He had a month’s worth of chaos resting on his shoulders, and it was going to take time to sort through everything that had happened.

But at least for now, he was lying in bed with Andrew—and more importantly, he was kissing Andrew.

And nothing mattered quite as much as him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, i hope you enjoyed the story  
> it didn't go as planned and i had life get in the way sometimes, but it was fun  
> next up? something pretty fun


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